Eternal Love
by kizha
Summary: Fuji wakes up after years in a coma caused by an accident. He seeks to regain the memories of the past and Atobe helps him while confronting his own tormenting memories. Atotez, Tezufuji, Atofuji
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis or any of the characters in the story. Eternal Love: Chapter One 

At six thirty sharp, the tall man exited his office in central London; his well-cut suit brushed against the lift door as he entered the lift and went down to the car park. Reaching the car park, he walked towards his car, a black saloon suitable for someone of his position.

An ironic smile crossed his face as he glanced at his watch while getting into the car. It was 6.40pm, he always took ten minutes to leave his office and walk towards this parking lot where he parked every single day.

"_Old habits die hard."_

That was the reply he once got when he asked someone he once knew why his life was ever so synchronized and organised, and it was the same reason why his own life was now such. As the engine started, he placed his hands on the steering wheel and drove out of the car park, heading as always to the same place he always went to after work, the hospital.

Walking through the glass doors, he nodded politely at the nurse standing at the reception while he headed towards the same room that he had been going to for the last six years. Everyday after work, the routine was always the same, he left work at half past six, and got to the hospital by seven, rain or shine, nothing ever changed.

Entering the room, he looked at the man lying on the bed, thin beyond recognition, and yet, still beautiful. His grey eyes filled with remorse as they always did whenever he saw the figure lying before him. The room smelled with the unpleasant odour of medication, this he had gotten used to over the years.

Atobe Keigo smiled bitterly as he picked up the photo lying facedown on the bedside table, he looked carefully at the two men standing in the photo, both were smiling, they both looked so happy. A shadow of his former smile crossed his face as he laughed suddenly, a cold bitter laugh, mocking and sad at the same time.

Who would have thought all those years ago, that him, Atobe Keigo, captain of the Hyotei tennis team and potential star tennis player, would be leading such a life one day, with work as his only companion, and the man lying before him as his only source of comfort. He sat down on his bed, staring at the tubes that connected the figure before him to countless huge machines.

Running his fingers through the soft brown hair, he longed to see the brilliance of those blue eyes once again, perhaps he had once felt uncomfortable in the presence of those clear, blue orbs, yet, he longed to see them once again, he longed to hear the soft voice and see that sweet smile once again.

"_Fuji…Fuji Syuuske, please, please wake up."_

He longed to say those words out loud, but he didn't dare to, for he knew he had no right at all to even utter that name. Atobe looked at the calendar standing on the bedside table, his eyes were desperate as he remembered how the last six years flew past without Fuji even showing a sign of awakening. Yet, he refused to lose hope, no matter what the doctor said, he was going to keep the life-support machine on until the day Fuji wakes up.

He sat there for the next three hours, just staring at the figure before him, allowing old memories to consume him, and praying that the man before him will soon wake up. At ten pm, he stood up and walked towards the door, leaving silently with one last glance at the silent figure.

The next day, Atobe arrived at his office at the usual time and started on his daily work, which was basically made up of a boring combination of paper work and mundane decision-making. With his talents and strong leadership skills, Atobe had quickly been promoted from a normal office worker to a high-flying executive.

It had been difficult initially of course, taking orders from someone else, but he knew that he had to if he didn't plan on depending on his family any longer. And besides, his pride no longer got in the way of anything, he had been numb to everything since what happened, he had not felt anything once he had absorbed the initial shock, he had stopped feeling entirely once everything had settled in his mind, nothing could hurt him now, for he could not feel any more pain.

As he was looking through a thick file of papers, the phone rang. He picked up the receiver and answered in his usual polite and reserved manner.

"Good afternoon, this is Atobe Keigo speaking."

"Good Afternoon, Mr Atobe. I am calling on the behalf of the Central Hospital and I would like to inform you that your friend Fuji Syuuske has shown signs of waking up from his coma, perhaps you would like to come over…"

Before the lady at the other end finished her words, Atobe had got up from his seat and left the office, leaving the receiver dangling off his table. For the first time in six years, he was starting to feel something. He was nervous, afraid yet happy at the same time, Fuji had finally woke up, after all these years of waiting, yet he didn't dare to face the former tennis player at the same time.

Arriving at the hospital, he walked through the familiar glass doors and headed rapidly towards the room. Gently pushing the door open, he let himself slowly into the room, partially because afraid to startle its occupant and mainly because he was unsure of how to react.

Turning around slowly, he found himself looking into a pair of clear, blue eyes that were both familiar and foreign at the same time. Confusion and uncertainty now occupy where intelligence and determination had once reside. Atobe found himself looking at a twenty five year old man who was looking back with the uncertain innocence of a child.

Even in his current state, Fuji was still beautiful; his sunken cheeks brought out the blue of his eyes and made his features attractively vulnerable. His slender figure looked weak and delicate, making Atobe feel like taking him into his arms and holding him there. He looked pale and weak, seating quietly on the hospital bed, staring at Atobe with questioning eyes.

Finally, he spoke.

"Who are you?"

The words were spoken softly, in fluent and polite Japanese. It was then that Atobe realise that Fuji did not remember him. He didn't reply to the question, he couldn't, he simply couldn't bring himself to speak.

Before he could force himself to utter a reply, there was a soft knock on the door and the doctor entered. Looking first at Fuji and then Atobe, he quietly requested that Atobe went out for a while.

Once outside, the doctor begin in a sombre tone, a grave expression on his face while he spoke.

"I am sorry to inform you that your friend has lost his memory due to the long period of time he has been in coma. This may be temporary or permanent, but I fear that the latter holds a higher possibility. He will still behave like a normal person, and will adapt to daily life quite easily but he might never remember what happened in the past."

Atobe listened quietly, unable to believe what he had just heard. He didn't know what to say and merely nodded speechlessly, as every word the doctor said sank deep into his head.

"Fuji will never be the same Fuji he was"

He turned to return to the room, but the doctor suddenly spoke.

"Wait a minute sir."

He turned around mutely.

"I…I think your friend's memory loss might also be psychological. I'm not sure about this, but the accident he was in should not have caused amnesia although you can never tell with such a long period of unconsciousness, I currently classify it as an after-effect of the coma, but it could also be because there is something in the past he wants to forget. Bringing him back to familiar surroundings may help, but …don't get your hopes up too high, as I said, it might be permanent, people who are in coma for a long period of time seldom fully recover. "

End Chapter one

Ha, I have a vague idea of how this might turn out…will try to continue asap.

But anyway, do read and review, comments and suggestion are very very much appreciated. Thanks.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis and its characters

Writer's Note: Sorry this took so long to write, but I needed to get sufficiently started on the third chapter before I actually post this so as not to be too inconsistent…Oh, and I'll like to thank everyone who left a review on the last chapter, I really appreciate you comments.

Eternal Love- Chapter 2

Atobe nodded silently at the doctor's words, and turned around to return to the room. Yet, he paused as he reached the door, filled with uncertainty on how to face this new Fuji. Fuji may not remember, but he did, and it was too painful, much too painful to look into those piercing blue eyes again, those eyes that brought back such tormenting memories. And yet, Atobe knew that he had no choice.

Summoning all the strength he had left in him, he forced himself to turn the doorknob and slowly push the door open, letting himself softly into the room before gently closing the door behind him.

The brown-haired man sitting on the bed looked up, his blue eyes piercingly questioning, and for a moment, Atobe thought that the doctor's words had been wrong and Fuji had regained his memory. Yet, the words that escaped the former tensai's mouth told him that he was wrong.

"So, who are you?"

All that Atobe could think of was how his voice remained the same; it was slightly husky due to his long period in coma, yet smooth, calm and soothing, as always. He stared at the other man without a word for a moment, before forcing himself to reply.

"Atobe…Atobe Keigo."

He paused.

"And you are Fuji Sysuuke

He added hesitantly, his voice soft and uncertain.

Fuji sensed his discomfort and merely nodded a silent "thank you" as he repeated the seemingly unfamiliar names to himself. He looked up with a smile after a moment and spoke, his tone friendly and cheerful, his face glowing with the calm innocence of a child.

"Do you mind if I call you Keigo?"

Atobe was stunned, for while he knew that Fuji had lost his memory, he could never have expected such a casual and sincere offer of friendship from the other man. He could only nod mutely and try his best to smile in return.

The hours soon passed, and for once, it flew by for Atobe, for he laughed for the first time in years as he spoke to Fuji about the city they were in and shared the other man's cheerful spirits, losing himself in the child-like innocence that he had lost so long ago. When visiting hours ended, he walked out of the door with a smile on his face and a sincere promise to come again the next day, a promise to both Fuji and himself.

That night, as Atobe laid alone in bed in his well-decorated yet cold and empty apartment, he could not help but remember the events of the evening; repeating the words again to himself.

"Keigo"

The word; his given name. It brought back such wonderful yet tormenting memories, for there was once a time when he had still enjoyed hearing the word and when he had loved the voice that uttered it so tenderly. He could still hear the voice in his dreams sometimes, but it was just yet another memory stored deep in his heart. It was no longer real, but merely a figment of his imagination.

He soon fell asleep with a smile on his lips, as he thought of the one that he had loved so much and so long ago. For it was for once that the sweetness of those memories outweighed the pain that came with them.

The next evening, after leaving his workplace at the usual time, he sat off as usual for the hospital. Yet, the routine and uniformity in his life seemed to be broken, for even though he still did everything according to schedule, for he felt for the first time in years.

For the first time since everything happened, Atobe was able to revisit the memories of the past without sinking into a period of uncontrollable pain and depression. It still hurt, of course, but at least he was able to feel something other the painful numbness that he had previously used to keep himself sane.

Stepping through the glass doors of the white building, he headed straight for Fuji's room, a tinge of anticipation in his heart.

Entering the silent, large room, he looked on, enchanted and speechless, at the serene sight of a beautiful young man drawing with deep concentration, his head bent over a sketchbook, clearly oblivious to all that was going on around him. Atobe stood silently at the door, afraid to disturb this enchanting moment that seemed almost sacred to him.

It was a long moment before Fuji finally looked up, his face serene and happy, a sparkle dancing in his eyes. He handed the sketch to Atobe without a word, a calm smile on his lips as he did so.

Atobe looked down hesitantly at the piece of paper he held, and what he saw nearly made him cry out. On the white sheet of paper, was a single rose, sketched out beautifully with a dark pencil, a single flawless rose lying against a background of pure, untainted white, which made it stood out even more.

It may be just a mere rose to anyone else, a worthless picture of a rose that could be easily removed with an eraser.

Yet, it meant so much to Atobe, for it brought back fond memories of the days when the one he loved would send roses to him along with his love and blessings. The contrast of black and white on the sheet made him remember the purity of their love, it surprised him, even now when he thought of it, how two people with such contrasting personalities could come to treasure each other so much.

Holding the piece of paper near to him, he felt that he could smell the scent of the roses in his mind, and silently thanked Fuji for reminding him of the beautiful memories.

Yet, even as he bathed in the past happiness, he was reminded of how fragile their relationship had been, it was just like the rose, it could be erased anytime, without leaving a trace…no, it had not just left a trace, it had left a permanent mark in his heart and soul, their relationship may have been fragile, but the love between them was certainly not.

Fuji seemed to have sensed that the other man was no longer with him, but lost in his own memories. He merely smiled to himself as he calmly waited for Atobe to return to the present.

Putting the piece of paper down after a long moment, Atobe looked into his companion's clear blue eyes without a word, the other man merely smiled sincerely into his eyes. The former tennis captain felt something snap in him, he suddenly moved forward and caught Fuji in a tight embrace, holding him close as if that will make up for the pain that he had once caused the tensai.

"Thank you" he whispered.

He was felt with guilt and sorrow as he spoke, for although Fuji did not know it, the tensai had given him so much.

"And yet", he thought bitterly, " I took away what meant most to him."

Fuji silently returned the embrace, unaware of the emotional turmoil that the other was experiencing. They held each other without a word for a long time, one was filled with the pain and regret of past events and sought to remove the hurt that he had once caused his companion while the other merely wanted to share the sorrow of the man that was his only friend in the world.

Visiting hours soon came to an end and Atobe knew it was time to go as he heard a gentle knock on the door. Gently releasing Fuji, he could not bring himself to look into those innocent and sympathetic eyes and fled the room without a word, his thoughts in disarray, pain and confusion in his eyes.

End Chapter Two

I guess this chapter wasn't very substantial, I think I wanted to portray the current relationship between them, but I'm not sure if I did it well. Anyway, you could interpret things as you wish…. and do review, I'll love to know what you think, comments and suggestions are greatly valued. I'll try to post chapter three soon, where they is actually more plot development than this chapter.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis or any of its characters 

Writer's note: I'll like to thank those who reviewed the last chapter; your comments helped me tremendously in editing this chapter. I'll say that this chapter still isn't very substantial as to what exactly happened, but I tried to hint more, and maybe you could guess…

Eternal Love -Chapter Three 

The next morning, Atobe arrived at work at the usual time, his suit was wrinkled and unchanged for once and a faint stubble appeared on his chin. He appeared tired and listless, having slept in the car all night, and had a dreadful headache.

Yet, as he entered the office, all else was pushed aside and he begun to work with the efficiency and responsibility that had made his bosses so impressed with his performance. Images of the previous night threatened to enter his head every now and then, but he push all unwanted memories away with the ease that came from years of practice, using work to numb his mind and heart as he had done for so long.

But still, time passed rapidly and the moment that he had been dreading all day soon came, the sun begun its slow descent from the sky, and night fell over the beautiful city. Atobe tried to remain in the office for as long as he could, but there was soon no one else left and he had no choice but to leave, knowing well the company's policy against staying overnight.

Returning home to his empty apartment, he removed his coat and slumped down of the couch, closing his eyes in exhaustion, drained both mentally and physically. Opening his tired eyes to look around the room, he caught sight of his own reflection in the glass sliding doors leading to the balcony.

Smiling bitterly, he wondered how his previous teammates would have reacted if they saw him in his current state. Feeling nearly as depressed and disoriented as he looked, he ran his hand through the dark grey hair and sudden thought crossed his mind, temptation griped him. He could suddenly smell the sweet smell of alcohol on his lips, envision the mesmerising way the liquid looked in the glass and feel the cold yet burning sensation in his throat. Picking up his jacket, he broke the resolution he had made so long ago.

Entering the noisy dark pub, Atobe took in the familiar smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke, hating it yet losing himself in it at the same time. Sitting down at the counter, he ordered a drink and downed it almost instantly. The golden, shimmering liquid slide smoothly down his throat, he could feel it burning, but the pain was intoxicating, he longed for it.

Ordering one drink after another, he relished the familiar feeling of half-consciousness, experiencing once again the comfort of knowing that he will forget his pain momentarily soon enough, drowning himself in the desire to forget.

It was not too long before Atobe was slumped on the counter, mumbling to himself and barely aware of his surroundings. With the last bit of strength that he had left, he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and paid the bill before dragging himself back to his car.

Yet, he was unable to find the desired refuge in his drunken state for distant memories haunted him even in his semi-consciousness. Various voices from the past echoed in his head, forcing him to close his eyes in pain as he fought fruitlessly to shut them out.

"_The police had confirmed, it wasn't a accident, it was attempted suicide; he couldn't take the grief and rammed his car into a tree."_

"_We have tried our best to revive him, but he is in coma, he might never wake up. "_

"_Give up Atobe, give up. They are both gone."_

"No!" He shouted with all the force that he could muster, his head threatened to burst with the sheer torture and he tried to get up to go back and get more alcohol, but his strength failed him and he could only slump back on his seat, allowing the pain to torment him further.

Hours passed and it was soon dawn, then morning came. The sunlight shone mercilessly into his eyes, unsympathetically arousing him from the uneasy sleep that he had finally fallen into barely an hour ago. His head hurt terribly and he could smell the odour of smoke and alcohol on his clothes. Glancing at his reflection in the rear-view mirror, he took in his blood-shot eyes and the untidy bristles on his chin, deciding that he was in no condition to appear at work.

Driving home in a bleary state, he forced himself to resist lying down on the couch upon reaching home and instead stepped instantly into the shower, in a desperate attempt to remove the alcohol and cigarette odour on him.

The icy-cold water ran through his hair and washed over him, waking him up with a sudden jolt as the events of the previous night came rushing back and he instantly regretted his actions, as the headache that he was experiencing became worse than ever. Stepping out of the shower, he towelled himself dry and dressed rapidly before lying down on the bed and falling into a deep sleep.

It was past noon when Atobe woke up and he realised that he had slept for nearly five hours. It was the first time that he had slept so well in days and he felt refresh and rejuvenated. Glancing at the clock on his table, he remembered that he had not yet informed the company of his absence and hurriedly made a phone call explaining that he was sick.

After that was done, he sat down on the armchair in his study, at a total loss as to how to best occupy his time, for it was years since the last time he had been totally free, having spent all his spare time absorbed in his work, for he preferred not having time to think.

Reluctantly, his thoughts wandered back to Fuji, he felt uneasy not seeing the other man for two whole days despite knowing that he was probably fine. The events of their previous meeting entered his mind once more and he felt the all-too-familiar sense of guilt. He had taken away so much from Fuji, the only thing that he could do now was to make his new life as happy as possible and hope that Fuji will soon be able to lead a normal and joyful life free from the constraints of the past.

Picking up his jacket and car-keys, he made the decision to ensure that the other man finds the happiness that he himself had forever lost so long ago.

Stepping through the familiar glass doors, Atobe realised that he missed the familiar smell of antiseptic that filled the place, the pure, clear and untainted feeling offered by the hospital.

Fuji was lying on the bed when he entered the room, only to turn around upon hearing him close the door, his features breaking into a dazzling smile that was both sweetly innocent and friendly at the same time.

"I missed you."

The words were spoken simply and softly, making him feel welcomed rather than guilty for not coming previous night.

Seating down at the side of the bed, Atobe replied with a tender, and slightly apologetic smile of his own and the casual atmosphere present in the rooms two nights ago soon returned.

The two talked about everything, with the taller man telling his companion all about the outside world, sharing his experiences at work and talking about his career ambitions. It soon seemed like they had knew each other forever, the jokes and laughter flow easily, filling the room with a warmth that had been absent for so long.

Every minute that used to be an eternity of waiting and hoping for Atobe became but a split second of fun and enjoyment with the presence of Fuji Syuuske. The visit ended too soon for both, despite the fact that Atobe had stayed for much longer than he usually did.

Atobe left with the promise to return the next day and he kept to it, returning punctually after work the next day. Days passed, then weeks, then months. . Atobe often brought Fuji out to visit the sights of London, together, they explored the city they had both been in for so long and yet had never really seen. The days were filled with happiness for both, for each had the company of the other despite being strangers in a foreign land. Fuji recuperated fast physically and it was soon time for him to be discharged.

End Chapter Three

I hope you enjoyed reading this, I think it might still be confusing, but the plot is actually moving now and I'll be writing more from Fuji's Pov in the next chapter. Do leave a review to tell me what you think, thanks!


	4. Chapter Four

Writer's Note: Gah, I have not updated for such a long time, partly because I wasn't sure how to continue, and mainly because school was so busy. Anyway, this is chapter four and though I sort of expected to end soon, I realised that I write far too slowly, in terms of the plot moving that is, which means that it'll probably continue for two more chapters or something…

I think this chapter is a bit weird, as in the writing is slightly different from what I am used to and the phrasing is awkward at times. I'll work on those points as I move along, but in the main time, I hope you'll like this chapter.

Oh, and I'll like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapters, took your comments and suggestions, thanks. Oh, and on reply to a question about Atobe, he works because he chose to give up on a life of luxury and left Japan to forget the past.

* * *

**Chapter Four **

Fuji was joyful as he heard the good news from the doctor, for the antiseptically cold atmosphere of the hospital chilled him, he missed Atobe nightly, as he laid alone on his bed each night, staring at the white-washed walls and plain ceiling. His happiness was built on the other man's presence and he found himself longing for the only company he had whenever he was awake and alone.

He wished to be free of the smell of medicine and disease, he wanted to live a normal life outside with the freedom to move as he wished, and he wanted to leave the nights of loneliness behind. But what was most important to him, a secret desire that he had never confided in anyone, not even Atobe, was the wish to return to his homeland.

The blank void in his memory haunted and intrigued him; he saw disconnected yet somehow familiar images in his mind occasionally, but they barely make any sense, and whenever he tried to probe further, to remember more, his head begin to hurt tremendously.

Fuji badly wanted to know what happened in his past, he wanted his memories back, both good and bad, for that seemed better than not having any memories at all. He felt lost and hollow sometimes, there was a space in his heart that seemed unfilled, there was someone or something important that he knew existed but could not remember and he wanted to know, he needed to know.

Making up his mind, Fuji knew he had to tell Atobe and persuade him somehow, for it was clear to him that Atobe was uncomfortable with the issues of the past. Each time Fuji had tried to ask any questions about his accident and coma, Atobe had carefully evaded the topic, the pain in his eyes evident.

Perhaps that was what had made him even more determined to find out, for he not only wanted to feel the empty void in his heart, he wanted to take away the pain and sorrow that he saw in the other man's deep grey eyes whenever the subject was brought up. He knew that like him, Atobe was nursing a void in his heart and he was determined to fill it, to remove the grief his companion held, to return the gift of serenity and happiness that Atobe had given him.

The morning that he was due to leave the hospital; Atobe took time off from work, excusing himself from returning to office for an entire week. He wanted to spend the time with Fuji, to allow the former tensai to get use to daily life and to make his days joyful and peaceful.

Fuji smiled as he left the hospital, turning back once more to look at the white building where he had spent six years of his life. Six full years, it was such a long period of time, yet so short for him, it seemed as if he had merely gone to sleep one night and woke up the next morning to find that six years had passed. It wouldn't have made a difference really, the number of years, he wouldn't know what had changed, he didn't know how things were initially anyway, but he knew he needed to find out.

It was a silent drive back to Atobe's apartment, each man was absorbed in his own thoughts and silently acknowledged the presence of the other without allowing words to disrupt the silence and interrupt their thoughts. As they stepped into the apartment, with Atobe's arm gently resting on the other man's waist to provide support, Fuji looked around with curiosity and admiration. Allowing Atobe to help him to the couch, he smiled as he spoke.

"I like your choice of colours."

In the past, Atobe would have laughed carelessly and replied that anyone with good taste and any sense would liked his choice in colours. But looking into Fuji's sincere eyes and remembering what had influenced his choice in colours, he merely curved his lips into a smile, a smile that did not quite meet his eyes, for only one thought echoed in his head, a thought that he could not voice.

"_These were his favourite colours."_

Fuji noticed the wistful yet sorrowful emotions the dark eyes held and did not say anymore, deciding that this was not the right time to tell Atobe of his plans.

That night, Atobe insisted that Fuji shared his big double bed for he was worried about Fuji, who while slowly recovering, was still extremely weak, and would not allow him to sleep anywhere out of his sight, convinced that there was a need for someone to watch over him. As they retreated to bed at an early hour, he ensured that the other was tucked warmly between the covers and sound asleep gently pulling a blanket over him.

Atobe looked at Fuji as the tensai lay beside him, his eyes caressed the delicate features, marvelling at their peerless beauty, his lips curved unconsciously into a tender smile. Yet, a dull pain caused his heart to ache and he saw how fragile and vulnerable the other man was, taking in the slender figure and pale skin. He longed to protect him, to make sure that nothing and no one could hurt him.

"_And yet you have hurt him most."_

A little voice in his head reminded him of the pain and grief he had once seen on those angelic and serene features, causing him to confront the shadows of the past once more.

A single tear fell onto the soft, silky sheets as Atobe fought to keep his emotions under control, biting on his lower lip until he could taste blood. Yet, he did not cry, he refused to release the tears that were gathering in his eyes, he couldn't.

He had not wept for so long. He remembered a time when his tears had once flowed freely, without constraint or obstruction. He had cried so much and it was so painful. He couldn't cry anymore, he couldn't afford to, he couldn't allow himself to feel, to cry, to be vulnerable, for fear that the pain would consume him. He knew that he needed his courage now, more than at any other point, he needed to be strong, for Fuji.

Biting his lower lip, he closed his eyes and allowed the world to be shut out, unwilling to face anything else. He swallowed the tears, relishing the familiar bitter and salty taste in his mouth, before forcing all thoughts out of his mind and sinking into uneasy sleep.

The next morning, Fuji awoke first; he sat up straight and looked around for a moment before remembering where he was. Turning to cast a glance at his sleeping companion, he couldn't help but smile as he saw that Atobe was curled up like a cat, looking both angelic and adorable at the same time.

Getting out of the bed, Fuji walked slowly to the kitchen without making a sound, for fear of waking Atobe. He planned to surprise the other man with breakfast and quickly set down to preparing the food.

It was nearly an hour later when Atobe woke up to see that Fuji was no longer beside him. Half worried about the tensai, he left the room to look for him. Stepping into the living room, the aroma of food cooking reached his senses and he headed rapidly to the kitchen. The frown on his face broke into a huge grin when he saw the other man dressed in his apron and frying something on the stove.

Fuji smiled sweetly at him.

"You might want to change and brush your teeth or do something along these lines, I couldn't bear to have breakfast with someone that looks so sleepy…I would think I were the one boring him to sleep."

His tone was light and gently teasing.

Atobe looked down to see that he was still wearing the crumpled T-shirt that he had worn bed last night, and glancing at his own reflection in a mirror hanging near the kitchen wall, realised that he indeed looked sleepy and unkempt. Acknowledging Fuji's advice with a sheepish grin, he hurried away into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, when Atobe emerged looking fresh and tidy, the table had already been set and Fuji was waiting for him to have breakfast together. Sitting down at the dining table, the two spoke of their plans for the day as they ate.

"So what do you want to do today?" Atobe asked with a smile on his face.

"What do you suggest?"

"We could take a walk around the neighbourhood, and we could go anywhere you want to."

"Go anywhere I want to go?" Fuji's voice trailed off slowly, becoming hesitant as he spoke.

"Yes, I'll do anything you want me to." Atobe's answer was soft yet sure, his voice was suddenly lower and huskier than ever.

Fuji looked uncertainly into the dark grey eyes and saw that the other man meant every word he had said; yet the former tensai was hesitant. He wanted there and then, to spill everything, to tell Atobe that he could not possible pretend that he did not have a past, to tell him that he wanted to find out what had happened, that he wanted to know the people that used to be so important to him, that he wanted to find out more about the old Fuji Sysuuke.

After a long pause, Fuji finally spoke.

"Atobe, I wish…I wish to visit Japan."

Atobe did not reply for a moment, he merely looked away, avoiding the other's eyes. Yet, Fuji had already caught the expression in his eyes; he had seen the mixture of grief, helplessness and dismay that occupied the dark depths, but there was not a trace of surprise, rather, Atobe appeared to be resigned.

He understood then, that Atobe had knew all along, he had knew that Fuji would not be satisfied with simply leading a happy and carefree existence without finding out about the past. He had clearly been prepared for the day when Fuji would seek the truth, yet had not expected it to come so soon.

Fuji regretted his words immediately; the desperately painful look in Atobe's eyes remained firmly etched in his mind even as he turned away. He wanted to hug him, comfort him, and tell him that it was fine, he could just forget there was ever a past and they could both be happy. Yet, he knew he couldn't, for that was not the truth. He knew he could never bear to continue pretending that there was never a past, he need to fill the void in his heart, he wanted to be complete.

Atobe finally spoke after a long while.

"We'll leave for Japan next week, I'll get a transfer from my office, we'll move back permanently." His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, the pain and fear in his words evident.

The tensai did not reply. He stood up after a moment and quickly crossed the distance between them, gently wrapping his arms around Atobe's neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. The other man responded with a muffled cry as he buried his head against Fuji's neck and held him tightly, returning the embrace with more force than ever.

"_Forgive me when you find out." _The words nearly escaped him, but he stopped himself. He couldn't bear to say them out loud; he couldn't bear to imagine Fuji's reaction when he remembered what has happened.

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Hope you enjoyed reading! Read and review, I'll love to have more suggestions and I'll try my very very best to post the next chapter soon, hopefully in less than a week. 


	5. Chapter Five

Writer's note: Sorry this update took so long too, but I'm kind of trying to make the chapters slightly longer, though I'm not sure if the story even moves at all in this chapter. Oh well, read and enjoy anyway…

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Chapter Five

A female voice spoke fluently in English and Japanese, announcing the changes in flight schedule and so on as elderly couples slowly collected their luggage and young couples smiled and posed to take pictures, later put into huge pink albums to show their offspring and descendants decades later. Embarrassed parents begged and pleaded with their whining toddlers to shut up while trying to move the pram and luggage at the same time.

The busy, chaotic scene seemed to pause for a moment in his clear blue eyes as he surveyed the sight before him. Yet, the sense of serenity, peace and calm that seemed to engulf him was merely for a moment as the endless motion quickly continued.

The picture however, was captured forever in his memory, or what was left of it at least, for it seemed so familiar, a sense of déjà vu. Fuji inclined his head to meet his companion's eyes, looking into the cloudy grey depths and trying to decipher the other man's feelings as well as he could.

Yet, he found himself, for the first time, facing a clear obstruction, for while the other was visibly standing beside him, easily within his reach and touch, he seemed miles away at the same time, distant and untouchable. It was almost like there was some physical barrier between them, or more likely, Atobe himself has erected a mental and emotional barrier. There was a certain calm coolness even in the tender concern he had accorded Fuji on their flight here, he had been polite and attentive, yet silent and reserved, appearing blank and emotionless rather than deep in thought or even pained.

It was a side of Atobe he had ever seen before, it was like a mask, a careful well-sculpted mask on his beautiful visage, disguising any sign of vulnerability or feeling. It was so well practiced, so effortlessly put on, without any sign of wavering, and that disturbed Fuji greatly.

Yet, the former tensai tactfully decided not to probe or try to pry off the careful disguise, for he understood that it was already difficult enough to get Atobe to return to Japan with him and face the pain that had been evident in his dark eyes whenever the subject of the past had been brought up. He understood and respected the fact that Atobe had a right to maintain a certain level of emotional defence.

Instead, Fuji concentrated on looking around the busy Narita airport, leaving Atobe to deal with the necessary task of getting transport. A smile graced his lips as his eyes followed a toddler who was struggling with all his might to get out of his pram. The child seemed to have sensed the attention, for he looked up and was suspiciously shy for a moment before breaking into a cheerful grin as Fuji sent him a knowing smile.

Convinced that Fuji was a friend and appreciative audience, he returned to his efforts at extracting himself from the pram that held him captive, casting occasional shy glances at the tensai from time to time.

Atobe soon returned, having secured their transport and they walked out of the airport together, into the cold morning. It was early morning and the sun's rays had just begun to warm and brighten the land. The two men walked towards a black sedan parked near the building and Atobe promptly got in at the wheel.

Feeling Fuji's questioning glance, he looked up.

"It's the company's, they have arranged for an apartment too."

No reply was expected and none was given as Fuji merely took in the information and they started for their lodging in companionable silence.

It was a short distance, and they reached the apartment in less than twenty minutes. Getting out of the car, Atobe removed the luggage from the back and walked towards the lift with Fuji following close behind. Entering the lift without a word, he stood with his back towards Fuji, unwilling to face the other man.

They soon reached their floor, and removing the key he had received from the company together with the car keys, Atobe swiftly opened the polished wooden door and entered the apartment silently. A pleasant sight greeted them as they entered the living room, for despite being slightly smaller than the London apartment; it was tastefully decorated, appearing quiet and cosy with understated elegance.

Closing the door behind them, the two men begin to explore the place; they found out that there were two bedrooms, a small kitchen and another room filled with a bookshelf and study table. Too tired to do anything else such as unpacking or even get breakfast, having flew the whole night, they each lay down in one bedroom without even changing out of their formal attire, and fell promptly asleep.

It was already noon when Fuji finally woke up. Sitting up sleepily and looking around the unfamiliar surroundings, it took him a moment to remember where he was, and when he did remember, he no longer felt sleepy. Standing up and walking towards the full-length windows that covered one side of the room, he drew the thin translucent curtains apart and looked hesitantly out at the streets.

He saw nothing but an old man slowly walking his dog and a child playing with his bicycle, yet, looking at the unmistakably Asian faces and road signs written in Japanese, he knew he was back, back in his homeland. Somehow, there was something familiar about the place, though he had barely seen it, but there was just something familiar and comforting about this place.

Tearing his eyes away from the window after a moment, he looked down at his crumpled suit and decided that it was time to take a shower. Entering the shower and allowing the cold running water to run over him, feeling suddenly alive and refreshed as the icy water made him fully awake.

When Fuji stepped out of the shower after nearly an hour, he begun to feel hungry, ravenous in fact, and he dressed quickly before stepping out of the room. Stopping in front of Atobe's closed door, he hesitated for a moment before knocking gently on the door, afraid to disturb the other man without a warning.

Yet, no reply came, and Fuji gently pushed the door open, his eyes travelled to the gigantic lump on the bed. Walking forward slowly, he gently pulled the blanket off to reveal a sleeping Atobe Keigo, who was a picture of adorable beauty with his striking grey eyes closed.

The tensai smiled as he gently reached out to touch the soft grey hair, his mind wandering to the child he had saw at the airport yesterday. He had envied the child then, the stunning innocent mischief and charm he had saw in those huge brown eyes. He had wished then, with all his heart that nothing would ever destroy that cheerful innocence.

But he had knew at the same time, that while he could be as cheerful and happy as the child now, with no memory of the past, things would never be the same once he remembered. He knew he would share the same agony and pain that he could see reflected in Atobe's eyes even at the most joyful moment, he knew he would never be able to feel pure untainted happiness ever again, he knew he would lose the ignorant bliss that now occupied his life.

But at the same time, despite knowing all these, he somehow felt that it was far better to know what happened and live with the sorrow, rather than to pretend that nothing had ever happened, for while he could not feel the sorrow and grief that his companion clearly remembered, his heart ached whenever he looked deeply into the other man's eyes, and saw the pain hidden in their depths.

It was a comfort now to Fuji, to sit beside a sleeping Atobe and gaze at the beautifully crafted features that exuded a child-like air of serenity and calm, it was like watching an infant sleep undisturbed, unaware of the world around him and the troubles that plagued it.

"_Perhaps everyone is a child when he is asleep." _

His heart sang with joy and weep with sorrow at the same time, grieving for the loss of innocence and bliss, yet rejoicing at the realisation that no matter what happens, some things will never change. For once, he felt true happiness, unblemished joy, even as a single tear fell onto the closed eyes.

Atobe slowly opened his eyes, he had felt something wet fall on him and he now turn around, to be greeted with the sight of a weeping yet smiling Fuji Syuuske. Unsure of what he was seeing, he gently tapped Fuji on the shoulder, which was all the encouragement the other man needed to fall into his arms and allow the tears to flow.

Atobe was shocked. He had absolutely no idea how Fuji had gotten on his bed and why he was crying so hard, but what baffled him further was the smile on his face, a smile of pure joy. He could only hold the tensai in his arms and prayed fervently that he will soon recover.

It was a long moment before Fuji finally stopped weeping. He looked up slowly into Atobe's eyes, and smiled gently as he spoke.

" I think I'll leave you to get a shower or something now, then we can go our and get something eat. I'm starving.

Atobe merely nodded mutely, as Fuji left the room.

An hour later, they found themselves eating in a tiny eatery that they had discovered on a quiet street. It was a relief to them both, to savour the familiar taste of local food after being in London for so long. There was a sense of comfort in the antiquity that the little shop offered, with its quaint, old-fashioned furniture and a little old man that looked as old as the furniture.

Atobe seemed to be his usual self again, as they talked and laughed throughout the meal, speaking only of useless and random topics and nothing else, unwilling to let any unhappiness spoil their first day back home.

They took a slow walk around their new neighbourhood before returning to the apartment that night, where the unpacking was again conveniently put off till the next day.

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I was originally planning to end in two chapters or so, but that is quite impossible now since I feel like actually cultivating a sweeter and more in depth relationship between Atobe and Fuji first aka stop torturing them for sometime… Do give me your opinion on this…I have started on the next chapter, and it is more on the light-hearted sight instead of angst, should be done soon…keeps fingers crossed 


	6. Chapter Six

Writer's note: I'm sorry this took so long, but writing this chapter took ages and I have a feeling it sounds really awkward, but I can't seem to find exactly what is wrong. Do bear with me till I get the next chapter up. Thanks! Oh, and I'll really like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter, your comments really helped.

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Chapter Six

The next morning, Atobe woke up to the sight of a grinning Fuji Syuuske standing at the foot of his bed, and the sunlight streaming into his eyes.

"Close the windows."

He grumbled in annoyance before reaching for a blanket to pull over his eyes. But of course, Fuji had not lost his excellent foresight despite losing his memory and had removed that in advance. The only solution for Atobe then was to turn around and buried his face in the pillow.

Nothing happened for a moment, and he drifted slowly off to sleep, thinking that the annoying source of disturbance had gone, or at least, until he felt an icy cold sensation moving down his back. Leaping into a sitting position, he felt something cold and wet fall onto his bed.

"That was NOT funny! It isn't exactly pleasant to have ice down your back while you are sleeping, or rather, trying to sleep"

He yelled indignantly at Fuji who took no notice except perhaps to laugh even harder. Struggling to catch his breath in between streams of laughter, he finally choked out.

"You are not supposed to be sleeping." before dissolving into giggles once more.

"But why? It's a … Sunday!"

Fuji who had finally managed to stop laughing, temporarily at least, while Atobe was trying to find a valid excuse to stay in bed, replied with the patience of one speaking to a three year old.

"Because, we need to unpack today, and besides, it's nearly 9am, and I'm starving."

"You woke me up because you were starving!" Atobe repeated incredulously, unable to believe how could anyone be so gluttonous, self-centred and mean, and he told Fuji just that.

"I am not being gluttonous, self-centred and mean, just sensible and _mature_." That was Fuji's reply, and looking at the doubting expression on Atobe's face, he proceeded to substantiate his claim, his tone infinitely gentle and patient.

"Keigo, we have to unpack by today, get groceries, eat, and so on. Anyway, we both slept loads yesterday. Isn't that right?"

Atobe had the unpleasant feeling that he was being patronised, but he did as he was told and slowly stood up to walk towards the bathroom.

"That's being a good child, Kei chan."

Fuji exited rapidly even as he spoke, as Atobe came to the stunning realisation that he was indeed being patronised.

Fuji was already there setting the table for breakfast as Atobe walked out of his room after washing and dressing, feeling more awake and refreshed than previously, but still feeling extremely irritated over the other's unceremonious way of waking him up.

Sitting down at the dining table, Atobe glared unappreciatively at the food that was clearly bought at the same eatery where they had dined the previous night, muttering something about how they could have gone out for breakfast instead. Yet, Fuji merely smiled as he spoke.

"Well, we are not going anywhere until we finish the unpacking."

They had breakfast in amiable silence with Atobe flipping through the newspaper while Fuji smiled to himself as he surveyed the comfortable silence between. It struck him how homely and domesticated this was, having breakfast together with Atobe and exchanging friendly remarks, as if neither had a care in the world.

Feeling Fuji's gaze upon him, Atobe looked up to meet the tensai's clear blue eyes with a brief smile before turning his attention back to the paper. He had felt it too, though he had not remarked upon it, and he wished it could always remain this way.

Of course, he knew that it was impossible, but he refused to allow his mind to be filled with any painful or unhappy thoughts. He knew deep down despite his reluctance to face it, that Fuji would eventually get his memory back and things will never be the same again.

Atobe understood that he had to face reality one day, and the least he could do, the only thing he truly wanted to do now, was to treasure every minute spent with the other man, to ensure that their time together was filled with nothing but joy. Making up his mind, he brushed aside his thoughts and looked up to face the man before him.

"Syusuke, what do you want to do today?"

"Today? We are supposed to do the packing, remember?"

"Right." Atobe leaned back, barely suppressing a groan, so much for having every moment together filled with joy. Clearing the table, he entered the kitchen to do the dishes while Fuji went to look at the numerous suitcases that they had carelessly discarded in the living room the previous night.

By the time Atobe stepped into the living room, the other had already efficiently classified the huge amount of luggage into three main piles, one comprise of Atobe's clothes, the other of Fuji clothes and the last one of everything else.

Having moved to England in a hurry those years ago, Atobe did not have many personal belongings other than his clothes and since they had left almost everything back in the London flat when they moved, the third pile contained only the small ornaments that Fuji had purchased when they went sight-seeing around London and some of Atobe's items that they had threw hurriedly into the suitcase

They started work immediately, each arranging his own wardrobe after arguing over who should get the room with the better view, a battle that Fuji won with ease, after flashing his most angelic smile at the other man.

Fuji was the faster of the two and soon found himself sitting idle in the living room after a short hour, examining the assorted objects lying on the ground.

Picking up a small crystal ball from the pile, the tensai smiled, as he examined the delicate object, remembering the time when they had discovered the tiny ancient shop on a lonely street in London.

_The shop had been beautiful, and the lovely objects the stuffy little place held had enchanted them both. Yet, for some obscure reason, Fuji was particularly attracted by one thing, a small crystal ball that glowed a slight purplish-pink when placed in the palm. _

_It was lying unnoticed in a small corner of the shelf when he discovered it, covered with dust. It was highly special or even well crafted, but somehow, for some unknown reason, he had fell in love with it, and could do nothing but admire it again and again. _

_Yet, he didn't tell Atobe how he felt towards it, unwilling to make the other man feel any obligation to purchase the item. It was a pleasant surprise than, when Atobe had disappeared momentarily during lunch, to return with a tiny package in his hands, a package that he had handed to Fuji smilingly. Opening it slowly, Fuji had been stunned and touched when he realised what it contained._

"_How did you know?"_

_The reply had been a gentle smile, accompanied with a question. _

"_Do you like it?"_

_Fuji could only nod mutely then, as he stared at the gift in his hands, struck by how well Atobe understood him and touched by how much the other man cared. He wanted to thank him, but a mere "thank you" seemed nearly ungrateful, for he knew that words could never express the extent of gratitude he felt towards the man that had given him so much._

Awaken from his reverie by the sound of approaching footsteps, Fuji turned around to see Atobe walking towards him. Seating himself beside Fuji, the taller man stared for a moment at the crystal orb before speaking, hiss voice gentle and teasing.

"I'll never understand why you love that thing so much."

"_And I'll never understand how you knew I loved it." _Fuji wanted to say. Yet, the words refused to leave his lips and he merely smiled in reply.

"It's nearly lunchtime." Atobe said briskly as he glanced at his watch, "Maybe we should get something to eat. "

Exiting the apartment, the two men explored the familiar yet foreign city for the first time since their return. Atobe had never thought he would one day have the opportunity to look at the city, where he had grew up and spent a large part of his life in, through the eyes of a stranger. For the very first time, he begun to appreciate the beauty of the city and realised how much it all meant to him.

It was not just the spotless streets and familiar landscape that he missed so much, not simply the comfortable feeling of everyone around him speaking the same language, it was the memories in the air that he longed for, the loved ones he had left behind in this city.

He felt suddenly, an overwhelming longing for home, a sudden strong desire to see his parents and closest friends, a need to pour out his feelings to someone who would understand.

"_Yuushi."_

The single word surfaced in his mind, as images of the tall dark-haired tensai immediately appeared in his head. Yuushi always understood, he never criticised or commented. He always listened, and he always cared, he was always there when no one else was.

For a moment, Atobe wanted to burst into tears like an enfant and cry out for his best friend, he wanted the other man to hold him and comfort him the way he used to. His face turned pale, his eyes prickled with unshed tears as he tried to keep his feelings under wraps.

Yet, Fuji had noticed and was staring intently at him, concern clouding the delicate features even while he sensitively remained silent. Atobe quickly pushed his thoughts away and smiled to show that he was fine, unwilling to let any dark thoughts mar the perfect afternoon, and they continued to stroll in companionable silence through the busy streets of Tokyo.

Hours passed rapidly and it was soon evening. The sun begun to make its slow descent from the sky, painting it a brilliant shade of blue and orange so beautiful that it seemed unreal. The busy streets of the city appeared lively yet cluttered at the same time under the orange glow of the setting sun.

Standing on a bridge that gave them a panoramic view of the city skyline, Atobe looked up wordlessly at the sky for a moment, recalling how it was his only comfort when alone in a foreign land, the thought had been so comforting to him then, the knowledge that he could see the same sky, the same sun, moon and stars as those he loved that he had left far behind. Slowly, he turned towards Fuji; an unreadable emotion clouded his dark eyes.

The sun slowly ended its journey across the sky.

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Hmm, do give me your comments, you probably can guess what happens next though…. LOL 


	7. Chapter Seven

Writer's Note: Argh, this took ages, but it's finally done! Hope it'll provide you with some idea of what exactly happened in the past…lol

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Chapter 7

Back at the apartment that night, Fuji laid awake on his bed, staring at the spotlessly white ceiling. Memories of the day came rushing back; it had all been a mindless whirl of colour and noise, up to the moment when they had stood together, side-by-side, on the bridge.

A faint blush coloured his pale cheeks as he recalled what had happened. He remembered every detail clearly, having replayed the scene over and over again in his head, savouring every touch and sensation. He knew this was something he was unlikely to ever forget.

_Standing against the picture-perfect backdrop of the setting sun, Atobe had turned towards him, his dark eyes clouded with an unreadable emotion, his face determined yet full of anguish, strong yet weak. _

_Fuji had wanted to reach out to him then, to comfort the vulnerable being behind the steely exterior, to tell him that everything was alright; alright because they were together. But before he could utter a word, a pair of lips was softly and suddenly pressed against his own, he barely managed to gasp in surprise before Atobe claimed his lips with a sudden strength, gently yet firmly. _

_It was only a brief moment, but it felt like an eternity of happiness to Fuji. He knew that was where he belonged, in Atobe's arms, caught in his embrace. It all felt so right and natural, it was almost like he had expected it, and perhaps he did._

_The world around them ceased to exist, it seemed then, that nothing mattered anymore, the past or the future, all that was important, was the present, all that he cared about, was that they would always remain together. _

_He pulled Atobe closer to him and gently returned the kiss, holding on to the other as if it was the only thing that he depended on for survival, and in a way, he knew it was. Fuji could not imagine a life without Atobe; he knew then that his feelings for the taller man went much further than a casual friendship. It was not even just a romance; it was a union of heart and soul._

_Yet, the intimate moment was sudden broken as Atobe pulled away suddenly, bliss was replaced by confusion as Fuji saw what resembled guilt in the other man's eyes. The taller man seemed close to tears, as he slowly turned away and stumbled a few steps away from Fuji, as if to create a physical distance between them._

"_It's late, we should go back"_

_Atobe's voice was low and huskier than usual when he spoke, thick with unshed tears. He carefully avoided Fuji's face as if afraid to meet his eyes. Turning around, he walked ahead without another word. _

Fuji sighed as he remembered how Atobe had ignored him all the way back. They had dinner in silence at the same eatery where they had dined the previous night, and Atobe had shut himself in his room immediately upon returning to the apartment.

He felt hurt and confusion at the same time, he knew that that Atobe cared for him, he understood how much the other man had sacrificed for him, he knew that he was causing the other much anguish in forcing him to confront the past.

Yet it was painfully frustrating sometimes, the way he could be so warm and tender at one time yet so cold and abrupt at another. It was heartbreaking to watch the conflicting emotions and grief in his eyes, and even more painful to know that he was part of what caused the pain.

But what caused him the most anguish was the way Atobe had pushed him away earlier that evening, the manner in which the taller man had turned away, despair and regret in his eyes. He understood the despair, but not the regret. It had seemed then, that the other man regretted kissing him, he had seemed almost sorry, as he stumbled away to put a few steps between them.

He wanted to tell Atobe then, that he was not sorry they had kissed, that it had felt completely natural and right to him. But looking at the pain on the other's face, he could not bring himself to speak, swallowing the words as soon as they reached his lips, choosing to follow mutely behind the taller man instead.

He had pondered over the matter since then, trying to understand Atobe's feelings and to sympathise with him. Yet, he simply could not concentrate as the other man's desperate expression haunted his thoughts. He had numerous doubt and worries, a thousand questions but no answers, they tortured him and made his head ache madly, keeping both logic and sleep away.

Staring at the clock, he realised that it had been at least three hours since he had retired to bed, and he was still unable to fall asleep. Sitting up with a sudden renewed vigour, he brushed aside his headache and threw the sheets off as he made up his mind to get an answer from Atobe.

In a dozen rapid steps, Fuji found himself standing shivering outside Atobe's door, feeling acutely the cold hard marble floor against his bare feet. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to knock or not, wrapping his arms around himself to keep the cold away, feeling vulnerable and alone suddenly, as memories of Atobe's touch and embrace made the night seemed colder than ever.

Pushing his doubts away, he gently turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, stepping soundlessly into the room. The sudden burst of cold air reached his senses and he realised that the room was freezing cold with the windows wide open.

A dark figure stood beside the window, unmoving and seemingly deep in thought. He did not appear to have notice Fuji's entrance or the freezing cold of the room. Walking gently forward, Fuji tapped him gently on his arm, realising that it was cold as ice.

"Atobe"

The taller man did not turn around, or perhaps he didn't dare to.

"Can we talk?"

Fuji tried again, a desperate edge to his voice even while he spoke in low tones. There was silence.

"Talk about what?"

Atobe finally replied after a long time, his voice hard and emotionless, without a trace of warmth or bitterness. Fuji wanted to shout at him then, to grab him by the shoulders and shake him hard, to insist that he gave him a clear answer. But his strength failed him, he was drained and tired, he didn't want a confrontation, just answers.

"About us."

The words were uttered simply and quietly, as Fuji sat down softly on the bed. Atobe appeared not to have heard, for no reply was given and he continued to stare motionless out of the window.

"Atobe, please."

The former tensai finally pleaded, unable to bear the awkward silence.

After a moment, Atobe turned around slowly, the light of the moon illuminated his pale skin and made him seem fairer than ever, he appeared strong yet vulnerable, standing framed by the open window, his dark hair, ruffled by the wind. His features were tired and worn when he finally faced Fuji, his eyes dull and hopeless, giving him the appearance of a man almost twice his age.

"You really want to know what happened?"

His voice was gentle, almost pleading. There was a sudden longing in his eyes, a desire to share the pain of the burden he had carried alone for so long, to rid himself of or at least lessen the guilt he felt. Yet, that was quickly replaced by anguish that bordered on fear.

Ignoring the conflicting emotions in Atobe's eyes, Fuji swallowed deeply, and nodded firmly He made up his mind then, that he wanted to know the source of Atobe's pain, to share the grief and anguish, to understand the other man's burden, even if it meant losing the happiness that came with ignorance.

Atobe sighed deeply; he had knew the answer before he even asked the question, he knew that Fuji would want to know everything.

"Even if it's going to kill both of us."

The thought echoed in his head as he realised that he could not protect Fuji any more, or rather, he could protect both of them any longer. Lowering himself onto the bed, he thought for a moment before speaking, allowing the memories he had been trying so hard to forget resurface once more.

He felt a sudden unnatural calm, for the pain that came with the memories seemed distant. He felt numbed; he no longer felt like part of it all, it was as if he was distanced from reality, like an audience member watching a play, a weepy melodrama, the play of his life, of his love and loss. Slowly, he started to speak; his voice was calm and steady, like that of a narrator, as he recounted the events that took place so long ago.

"_I'm sorry sir. We have tried our best, but your friend is dead."_

_The doctor spoke calmly and sympathetically, before departing with a polite bow, as if it was just a usual occurrence, a thing that happened every day, and he was right of course, people do die everyday._

_For a moment, he felt an unnatural calm as he glanced at the worried expressions of those around him, a weird sense of peace as he surveyed the scratches on his arms. Then, the truth sank in, biting slowly into him like blunt blade pushed firmly against his flesh. The pain was unbearable yet numbing. He couldn't cry, he couldn't feel anything. Soon, the world faded slowly before his eyes._

_Everything ceased to exist; his eyes were focused on the blinding white ceiling, opened, yet not seeing anything. It didn't make sense to him, how he escaped with mere scratches while his companion, who was not even the one driving, could die._

"_Tezuka."_

_The name escaped his lips, Tezuka Kunimitsu, the latest in his long string of flings. The last time he had seen Tezuka, was when the rescue team had dragged them both away from the wreckage. Atobe had been in shock then, and the only thing he remembered seeing was the stream of blooding flowing from the other's forehead and the unsightly wreck of the car._

_An ironically bitter smile touched his lips briefly as the words "I need a new car" flashed momentarily in his head. _

"_And perhaps a new companion too." A voice in his head reminded him. _

_Then he realised, that it wasn't so easy this time, Tezuka was irreplaceable. He never thought about it this way before, but then he realised that he could not lose Tezuka._

"_Why?"_

_That was the next question that popped out in his head. Atobe had prided himself on being a man unconstrained by emotions or sentimental attachments; relationships were to him a matter of self-fulfilment, not love, _

"_Because you loved him, because he is the only one you have ever loved._

_The answer came to him from deep in his heart, he understood deep down, despite his refusal to acknowledge it, that he had fell deeply and truly for the bespectacled man. He had thought initially, that it was a mere fascination and admiration, perhaps even envy. But after being with Tezuka for less than a month, melting in his arms, spending time with him, and finally losing him, he understood that he loved Tezuka. He loved him more than anything else; he loved him more than life. _

_He wanted to cry then, to lose himself in his grief. Yet, a sudden thought occurred to him, he was not the only one who loved Tezuka._

_Fuji Syusuke._

_The name echoed in his head as images of the smiling tensai filled his head. _

_Smiling…_

_The brown-haired man had not been smiling the last time they met. Atobe remembered the moment vividly, the satisfaction he had felt that when Tezuka had remained quiet under Fuji's accusing eyes, the sense of triumph he had experienced when the taller man had left with him. Yet, that very same victory returned to haunt him now, for he felt nothing but guilt and shame as he envisioned Fuji's reaction at Tezuka's death._

_It was his fault, everything, everything was his fault…the world faded slowly into darkness. _

The sudden warmth that engulfed him made Atobe return to the present, drawing him away from the cold, hard reality of the past. He had stopped speaking and could distinctly hear someone weeping; he could taste the salty droplets in on his lips. Reaching his fingers towards one cheek, he realised that it was wet with tears; he had remembered how to cry.

With a strangled sob, Atobe buried his face against the thin material of Fuji's pyjamas, and sobbed like an infant, allowing the world around him to fall away, as all he felt was the soothing sensation of the other man gently stroking his head.

Tell me what you think…


	8. Chapter Eight

Writer's note: 

Ok, I am so sorry I haven't actually updated for practically three months or something like that, the story's coming to an end soon. It just seems to have stopped moving…Anyway, Chapter Eight is basically on how Atobe feels about Tezuka. I'm still trying to address the question that people have posted in their comments…do bear with it for a while.

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The blinding brightness of the sun shone through the open windows, shining mercilessly onto the bed, bathing the room in light and warmth. Fuji woke up feeling something warm and soft against him, and glanced down to see Atobe fast asleep in his arms, breathing gently against his shirt. Gathering his thoughts, the events of the previous night returned to him and Atobe's words echoed in his mind as he gently stroked the dark head lying against him.

"Tezuka"

He uttered the word softly, testing it on his tongue, like a child learning how to speak. The name; it was strangely familiar to hear his own voice saying it, it seemed almost like it was once part of him, he felt something stir from within as he delicately repeated the name once more.

"Tezuka Kunimitsu"

It was so very familiar, yet he simply couldn't remember. His head ached as he tried and Fuji was soon forced to give up.

"Of course it sounds familiar." A voice in his head reminded him. "Atobe said you loved him."

Perhaps he had loved him, but evidently, so had Atobe. Pain pierced his heart as he remembered the anguish in the other man's eyes last night, the despair that had occupied them even as the calm voice recounted the tale.

Something stirred in his arms, grey eyes looked up to meet his own, trusting and innocent for a split second before the memories came back and the shutters slammed shut into place once more. The blank expression barely masked the regret in his features as he gently pushed Fuji aside and stepped firmly into the bathroom, shutting the door with trembling hands.

Once safe in the quiet peace of the bathroom, Atobe leaned against the wall and buried his head in his hands as he felt a massive headache coming along with memories of last night. He could not believe how he had broken down so completely, telling Fuji everything. In fact, he was surprised that the former tensai was still sticking around despite knowing the truth. There was only one explanation; he had not remembered anything.

He didn't know whether that was a misfortune or a blessing. Sometimes, it all felt so wrong, it was just wrong to have Fuji look at him with those beautiful, trusting eyes, filled with care and laughter, not when they should be filled with anger and hatred.

He wished Fuji would hate him, scream at him, or even leave him; perhaps then, his guilt will burden him less. Yet, deep within, he knew that moment will come soon, and he dreaded the time when it will eventually come. The thought of it just seemed too painful, he knew, no matter what he tried to make himself believe, that the guilt will not lessen, it will only multiply.

He couldn't bear the thought of seeing once more, the pain and grief that had been evident in the tensai's eyes those years ago, and hated the thought of being the one who brought about this pain. But he had no choice, it was his mistake, and he hated himself for that.

Sinking down to the ground, Atobe allowed himself to be lost the joyful dreams of the past, dreams fraught with bliss and sorrow, memories he tried so hard to forget, for it was hard to think of the joy without remembering the grief.

"Tezuka"

His lips curved into a bitter smile as he whispered the name, he loved him so much, and perhaps, he still did.

He remembered vividly, the first time they had played, when he had hurt the other youth's arm so badly that he was forced to leave for Germany to obtain treatment. He had felt triumphant initially, but the joy of victory was soon replaced by a disturbing regret and guilt as he saw the determination that the other had for tennis, the unmistakeable passion in the solemn face.

He had tried to make up when Tezuka returned, and found himself more drawn than ever by the furiously determined person that resided within the calm exterior. His fascination with the bespectacled young man grew, and so did his desire to possess him. He knew that Tezuka was dating Fuji and that Fuji had loved the other man truly, for a long time, for he saw the venom in his eyes when he had hurt Tezuka the first time they played.

But he didn't care; what Atobe wanted was what he will get.

He pursued Tezuka with all he had, seducing him and pushing him away alternately, showering surprising care and concern at times yet being cold and unapproachable at others. He won eventually, a clear victory.

_The piercing blue eyes were filled with despair and pain; the anger previously present was long gone. He was tired, too tired to be angry anymore, for he knew that he had lost. But he just wanted to know, to know if the man that had hurt him so much still loved him, to know if he had even been loved._

"_Tezuka, do you love me? Have you ever loved me?"_

_The words were spoken in a bare whisper; a whisper filled with pain and fear. He had ceased to regard the presence of Atobe Keigo who was standing nearby, a smug grin on his face. Nothing else mattered anymore, pride, dignity, nothing mattered, All Fuji cared about now, was the words of the man standing before him, the only one he truly loved._

"_Fuji."_

_The uncharacteristically hesitant reply came; Tezuka's voice trembled briefly, pausing before he spoke his next words._

"_I'm sorry."_

_The words were resigned and sorrowful, the unspoken meanings clear and sharp in every word, piercing right through the former Tensai. His heart sang with sorrow as he looked up and stared right into the familiar eyes behind the glasses. His gaze was accusing yet resigned; there was no anger in him. Everything was over. _

_Beside Tezuka, Atobe took it all in, his insightful eyes seeing clearly the emotions in Fuji's eyes, a sense of victory overwhelmed him. He had won. Tezuka belonged to him now, to no one else but him. _

The times they spent together were joyful. Tezuka's serious attitude towards things often amused him, and the tender concern hidden under the calm façade truly touched him. He never allowed the cold mask to fall fully from his face, but Atobe had caught glimpses of the real Tezuka sometimes, had seen the tender love in the unreadable eyes, the concern that made him felt like weeping with joy. The man was flawless, or at least, it seemed so to him.

"_He was perfect. And I loved him. "_

He had loved Tezuka since the day they met; he had admired the strong determination behind the stern blue eyes, and had tried with all his might to peel off the blank mask that seemed always to cover the beautiful features. Their love had seemed almost like a game of hide and seek, fleeting, invisible yet always present.

Yet, he never really realised how much he loved Tezuka until the day of that accident, the day when he had lost him forever. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he closed his eyes and willed the pain to go away; as he lost himself in the happy memories they once shared. Time and space was forgotten, as all that occupied his mind was Tezuka.

A soft knock at the door broke Atobe's reverie.

"Are you alright?"

The familiar voice of Fuji reached him and guilt seized him as he heard the concern in the words. Standing up suddenly, he realised that he had been in the bathroom for nearly half-an-hour, and it was obvious why Fuji was getting worried. Mustering all his energy, he uttered a weak reply, and proceeded to prepare himself for the day.

Atobe made up his mind, the memories were painful, but Fuji had to know. He had no right anyway, to deprive him of the knowledge of his past, and perhaps it was better that Fuji knew, for Atobe realised deep down, that despite all the pain and sorrow brought about by his love and memories, he was glad that it had once existed, he was glad that he at least had memories, sad or joyful, of the man he loved so much.

The distinct aroma of food reached Atobe as he stepped out of the room; the hesitant smile of the other man greeted him. He smiled agreeably in reply and they set down together for breakfast. Yet, the smiles were but superficial, and for once, an uncomfortable silence settled as they sat eating.

Fuji glanced uncertainly at Atobe even as they ate, he was not sure of what to say or do. He knew how painful last night had been for Atobe, and was reluctant to push him to reveal anything more. Yet, at the same time, the knowledge that he had loved someone so deeply intrigued him.

He simply couldn't imagine it, the love that he supposedly once had for a person whose name and face he could not even recall, it all just seemed so disconnected, especially since Atobe apparently loved the same person.

Yet, that was not what really baffled him, what confused him more than anything else was what Atobe did. He simply refused to believe that Atobe could do anything so cruel and heartless; that he would take the only and only person he truly loved away from him.

Besides, Atobe had never explained what exactly happened that led to the accident, he merely offered a glimpse into cause of his pain, but had never really explained anything. Stealing another glance at Atobe, Fuji guiltily realised that the pain in his eyes was by no means lessened, but instead more pronounced than ever.

But perhaps it no longer mattered. Fuji believed in Atobe, he trusted him. He believed truly, deep down in his heart, that Atobe had been a victim of circumstances; that he had never meant to hurt anyone. He saw the look in the other man's eyes last night, just before they had been filled with tears; deep beneath the grief and guilt, resided fear.

It was a fear that Fuji understood too well, the fear of separation. It was the same fear that had constantly filled his heart, the fear that they will lose their current happiness when he remembers the past, the fear of losing Atobe, the fear of being apart.

If he could turn time back, Fuji wished to return to the point when he had still been blissfully ignorant, to forget what he had been told. But he knew that was impossible, it was simply too late. And perhaps, deep down, he didn't really regret knowing, there was no other choice anyway.

If he could choose again, he could probably have done the same; he couldn't bear the thought of living as a person without a past. Anyway, now that he knew at least something from the past, there was no turning back; the only way to go was forward.

Taking a deep breath, Fuji finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence between them.

"Keigo…I have a question."

His voice was hesitant and guilt-ridden, torn between wanting to get over the painful process of remembering and reluctance at causing Atobe more pain. The other man looked up, his eyes filled with weary resignation.

"Tezuka. Do you have a picture of him?"

Fuji was hardly surprised when Atobe wordlessly stood up and left the table to get the picture, barely nodding in reply. He knew the answer to the question before he even asked, and winced when he saw the sharp flash of grief in Atobe's eyes.

He hated himself for it, and he wished he could make the pain go away. But it was all too late now and all he knew was that he desperately needed to find out more about this person that he had once loved. Even while guilt punished him, he couldn't help but be excited at the prospect of finally seeing when Tezuka looked like. He seemed somehow to have a vague idea in his head, he had a feeling that he would recognise Tezuka the moment he saw the picture.

Atobe finally returned to the table after what seemed like a long time even though it could not be more than a minute since he was gone. He was not holding an album or a frame but his wallet, from which he carefully pulled out a small photo that he reluctantly handed over to Fuji.

As he reached out to take the photo, their eyes met for a moment, and Fuji felt the excitement he had felt slowly seeped out of him. Pain and disappointment filled him as a sense of loss washed over him.

What he had saw in the painfully dark eyes arrested him; the tender look that Atobe had cast at the photo touched and tortured him. Behind the pain, he saw a love so pure and deep that Fuji never knew could exist. He realised then, at that moment, that Atobe had never once loved him; he had cared for him, he had done all he could to make him happy, he had kissed him.

Yet, that was not love, and it will never be, he saw the truth in Atobe's eyes. The only person that Atobe truly loved and will ever love was the man in the photo

"_Tezuka"_

* * *

If you read this, do comment. I'm sorry it turned out so badly, the plot is getting too slow and I know it. But I'll be sure to finish this by the end of October (in three chapters I hope). Hopefully, the next chapter will be better.  
Thanks! 


	9. Chapter Nine

Writer's note:

Finally, another chapter done! I hope you like this. Sorry to spend another chapter on the relationship between Fuji and Atobe, but they are so sweet together…I can't bear to break them up.

* * *

Chapter Nine

Slowly turning the photograph around, Fuji forced himself to focus his eyes on the man that had caused Atobe so much pain, the man that he was supposed to have once loved. A pair of bespectacled blue eyes met his own; the sharply beautiful face of an unsmiling young man greeted him. The man in the picture, he was no more than seventeen, his face was expressionless and stoic, calm elegance and assurance lay in his features.

Something stirred within Fuji, the face, the face he sometimes saw in his dreams, in the snippets of memories that appeared out of nowhere, the flashes that made his head hurt whenever he had tried to pursue them further.

"_Tezuka"_

He mouthed the name once more, trying hard to match the name with the man he saw in the photo. It fitted him somehow, calm and rational, unreadable yet somehow assuring and powerful. It was not hard to believe that he had once love this man, the stoic kindness and calm intelligence he saw in the face drew him even now. Feelings that he never new existed sprung alive, feelings that he couldn't recognise as his own, emotions that belonged to another time and era.

"_What was he like?"_

He wanted to ask Atobe, but found himself swallowing the words before they reached his lips. He knew the answer somehow, deep in his heart; he had a feeling that this was a man that mere words, no matter how beautiful, could not describe fully.

He settled instead for the other question that gnawed at him constantly.

"How deep was our love?"

His voice was soft yet firm when he spoke, for he felt in a strange way that the strong feelings he had for Tezuka in the past might bring back his lost memories. He believed that the pain of Tezuka's death was buried deep within him and only by exposing it, could he share Atobe's burden.

No answer came for a long time, as both men sat staring motionlessly at the table, faced with the knowledge that Atobe's answer might destroy the peace they now held. Yet, both knew than an answer could not be avoided, both men understood that this moment will one day come since the day Fuji woke up.

"You loved him enough to die for him."

His voice was calm and soft when he finally spoke, serenity passed his face for a moment, as if it was an answer that had just strike him. The words were nothing more than a whisper, but seemed clear and loud. He wanted to laugh and cry as the magnitude of his emotions strike him, as did the irony of the fact that he could barely remember the face of someone he once loved enough to die for.

Atobe opened his mouth, as if to continue further, but he merely sat silently, forgetting his audience as he sat lose in his thoughts and realisations. At the same moment that he spoke, Atobe had realised that he did not deserve to love Tezuka; he was far too vain and selfish to deserve anything so sweet.

He admired Fuji more than anything at that moment, for he realised that Fuji was the one who deserved Tezuka's love, for he was the one he was willing to give up life and everything it meant to him, to be with Tezuka eternally. He envied Fuji, for the former tensai was able to love fearlessly, to confront death with courage, when he could only bear to grieve silently.

He thought constantly of death initially, confronting the possibilities of killing himself for thousand of times. Yet, he never found the courage to depart life, for deep within him, he believed that happiness was not to be found in death. He believed rather, that memories would be lost in death, that once dead, he would be nothing more than a cold, still body, an empty shell, unable to miss and continue to love Tezuka. He couldn't bear the thought of that; he wanted his memories, both sweet and bitter, to be with him, always.

He was selfish, he wanted to live; he wanted Tezuka to live in his memories, to be with him always, but he refused to join him in death. He had no right to claim a love so pure and sweet as his own, to claim the heart of an angel. He knew then that he had to confess, to ask Fuji for his forgiveness, a forgiveness he did not deserve, but he had to try, for his sake, and for Fuji's.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was hesitant and soft when he spoke, fraught with regret and guilt.

The uncomprehending blue eyes stared back at him, trying to decipher the meaning of his words. Atobe remembered then that Fuji had no idea of what happened in the past that caused his guilt, and he knew that it was his duty to tell him. His voice was tired and resigned as he started to speak, allowing the haunting guilt to wash over him.

"_Atobe, this is Yuushi, come to the hospital now."_

_The urgent phone call from his closest friend jerked Atobe out of his painful reverie, as he sat in bed grieving over his loss. The hospital, he hated that place, he never wanted to go back again, it stunk with the stench of death and loss, echoing pain and despair._

_But Yuushi sounded urgent; maybe he was injured. Nothing mattered anymore to Atobe, but he knew he had to be there for Oshitari. Dragging himself of the bed, he dressed reluctantly and made his way to the hospital._

_The anxious face of Oshitari Yuushi met him outside the white frowning building. The words that came were unexpected and filled with sympathy. _

"_Fuji Syusuke, he is injured." _

_Atobe instantly jerked awake, he didn't know the tensai well, but the pain he saw on the tensai's face that night was etched in his mind and he knew only too well the enormous grief that Fuji must have suffered, the grief he had brought about. _

"_What happened?"_

_His voice shook as he asked._

"_He drove right into a tree. And…"_

_The reply was hesitant._

"_And?"_

"_The police confirmed it wasn't an accident, it was attempted suicide; he couldn't take the grief and rammed his car into a tree. I found out from his brother when we met at the public tennis courts"_

_The last piece of information was unnecessary, but Oshitari felt oblige to say more somehow, as if that could lessen the impact of the knowledge that Fuji had attempt to kill himself, that said, he could offer no other words of comfort and watched silently as Atobe stood stunned. _

_The doctor chose that moment to walk out, his face arranged into a careful mask of appropriate regret. _

"_We have tried our best, but he is in coma and might never wake up. "_

_The politely sombre and well-practiced statement was addressed to the Fuji family that stood a short distance away, but Atobe heard every word. His mind went numb as he slowly registered the information, realising vaguely that Fuji's mother had collapsed weeping with grief and tears were falling openly from his father's eyes. _

_He remotely thought that it was his fault, but somehow it didn't seem to matter. The image that appeared in his head was not one of a helpless, unconscious Fuji Syusuke, but rather the painfully accusing eyes filled with grief at Tezuka's betrayal. _

"_Tezuka"_

_He knew deep within him that Tezuka still felt for Fuji, that the other man would be devastated in any harm befell the tensai. Atobe knew that he could never replace Fuji, and he knew that for Tezuka, he must take care of Fuji. Walking towards Fuji's parents, he bowed respectfully as he made his request, his voice calm and respectful. _

"_If you don't mind, I would like to send him for treatment overseas."_

_Beside him, Oshitari shook his head; his voice was soft as spoke.  
_

"_Give up Atobe, give up. They are both gone."_

_But Atobe merely ignored him, choosing not to hear the painful words as he clung to the hope that Fuji might live, together with his memories of Tezuka, after all, he was the only thing that Tezuka had left behind. _

The warm tears that fell gently onto his shirt made Atobe stop speaking. All was silent for a moment as Atobe gently reached out to touch Fuji's cheek, wiping the tears gently away with his fingers.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

No reply came as Fuji merely continued to weep silently into Atobe's shirt, burying himself in the warmth that was offered. His tears were without cause or reason, falling mindlessly from his eyes. Shock and fear numbed his senses as he tried to deny Atobe's words, but he knew that all was true.

A love so deep that he was willing to die for it, to give up the joy of life merely because the other party could not share it. It just seemed so far away from him, the intensity of those emotions scared him. He wanted to believe he had gotten into a car accident simply because it was an accident, but he knew Atobe was right.

Perhaps it wasn't that impossible after all, he thought about his feelings for Atobe now, he couldn't imagine a life without the other man, the thought of that scared him. If Atobe were to leave him now, then surely life will lose its meaning.

He wanted to embrace Atobe, to tell him that they had to stay together always, but he knew it was not possible. Their relationship will lose its intimate quality once he remembered everything; he knew that the constant guilt in Atobe's eyes was not without reason. Deep down, he knew he might never forgive Atobe for what had happened in the past, that he might spend the rest of his life grieving for the man in the photo.

"_Tezuka Kunimitsu"_

Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around the slender waist and savoured the warmth that engulfed him, wishing that the moment would last forever yet knowing that it wouldn't.

* * *

Thanks for reading, comments, good or bad, are most welcomed. Hopes this answers some questions and make the story more logical. Like why is Atobe the person that placed Fuji on life-support and so on? I try to elaborate more on the past as Fuji gets his memory back. (Which will hopefully be in the next chapter?) 


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

* * *

Staring out of the tainted windows, Fuji allowed himself to be lost in the peaceful image of the calm neighbourhood that seemed warmly familiar to him. His lips curved into a gentle smile at the sight of young children in uniform playing and shouting on the streets, and at the sight of young mother gossiping as they hurriedly hushed their crying infants. It all fitted somehow, a serene place filled with nothing but the peaceful chaos of family and joy.

"_Family." _

The idea of having a real family of his own had never occurred to him, it never seemed to matter, not when they were in England. Atobe was the only family he knew, the only person he cared about and who cared for him, the only one he ever needed.

But all that seemed to have changed now; perhaps it was because they were back in Japan, and he knew that he needed to find his family in order to fully trace his past. Yet, deep down, he knew that was merely an excuse, he just wanted to see his family; not for any reason, but just to see the parents who grieved for him, and the brother whose name he did not even remember.

He wondered if they missed him, if they would recognise him, if they even cared that he had returned to see them, for perhaps he would be nothing more than a stranger to them, bonded by blood and nothing else and perhaps he wouldn't really care if they remembered him or not.

Yet, despite the doubts in his mind, the fear of rejection and alienation that occupied his thoughts, he knew he simply had to try, even if he might be turned away not just disappointed but injured. No matter what might happen, his family was part of his part, and he knew the only thing to resolve the nagging doubts in his head was to confront the inevitable.

His reverie was broken the car came to a slow stop, the polite voice of the driver informing him that they had arrived at his destination. Paying the fare and stepping out of the cab, Fuji stood on the pavement for a moment, taking in the calm and peaceful atmosphere of his surroundings.

Forcing himself to focus, he stared hard at the now crumpled piece of paper that he held, reading the unfamiliar address that he had hurriedly copied from his medical file when Atobe was asleep. Running his eyes over the hasty writing once more, he begun to hesitate.

Perhaps he should just turn around and return, pretending that he never knew anything, treasuring his current happiness while it lasted. Yet, something stopped him, the warm afternoon sun against his cheek, the light-hearted sound of children laughing and women chatting away, the thought of home; a place where he truly belonged.

He was filled with a sudden desire to meet his family, the siblings whose names he did not even remember, the parents who once grieved for him. He knew he had to; he owed it to them, and to himself.

Looking around with renewed vigour, he quickly located the correct house, standing in front on the comfortable-looking, middle class, Japanese-style house; he inhaled the fragrant aroma of food cooking. Mustering his courage, he knocked uncertainly on the wooden door.

After a moment, a pretty young woman in her late twenties opened the door, a bright smile on her friendly face, a smile that rapidly faded when she saw Fuji.

The polite smile that Fuji had ready dimmed for a moment, afraid that he had got the wrong house, or perhaps they had moved. He opened his mouth to utter an apology, yet no words came. His eyes were drawn to the delicate features on the face before him, taking in the light brown hair and pale complexion, the features that he saw so often in the mirror. He knew that it was the right house.

"Yumiko, who is it?"

As they stood there staring at each other, an older woman's voice came from the house, warm and motherly. Yumiko opened her mouth, but not a word emerged, instead, she stumbled forward and wrapped her arms around Fuji, hugging him tightly as if afraid to let go.

The sudden gesture took Fuji by surprise, yet he did not struggle, but instead surrendered to the warmth of her embrace. Feeling a warm wetness on his neck, he realised that she was weeping silently against his shoulder. He wanted to put his arms around her and comfort her, but he could not move, standing still in quiet shock, and in that way, they stood for a long time.

Yumiko recovered first, releasing him, and leading him towards the house.

Entering the house, he allowed the cosy atmosphere within to engulf him, it was not spacious, but small reminders of it being a cosy home peered out from every corner, the pictures on the wall, the photos displayed on table-tops, the aroma of food and old furniture, they all added to the familiar feeling of home.

Lost in the overwhelming warmth of the house, he hardly noticed as a middle-aged woman made his way towards him, a friendly smile on her lips. Yet, the smile on her face transformed into a soft scream as her eyes met his face, without warning, she collapsed to the ground and begun to weep.

While Yumiko rushed to wrap her arms around the woman and weep with her, a middle-aged man that entered the room behind her merely stood unmoving, making no move to comfort his wife, his eyes never leaving Fuji's face.

They stood there for a long time, no one said anything, and there was nothing to be said. The thousand questions and words that each longed to utter over the years were all lost in the silence of that moment.

After a long while, the older woman stood up and moved slowly towards Fuji. Gathering him in her arms, she held him tightly, gently touching his face as if to see if he was real or merely a vision. When she finally spoke, her words were warm and hesitant.

"Have you had lunch?"

Fuji shook his head slowly.

"Wait. I'll fixed lunch now."

Casting a long look at him, she disappeared into the kitchen.

An awkward silence fell over the room as she left; he stared at the middle-aged man who looked painfully back at him. Finally, Yumiko spoke.

"Do you want to see your room?"

The cheerfulness in her voice was forced, and without waiting for an answer, she pushed him towards the stairs.

"First room on the right."

Going up the stairs and pushing the door open, Fuji found himself standing in the tidy room of a young man, books and tennis magazines were placed neatly on the table, alongside family photos and photos of a young Fuji Syuuske. The bed was clean and made, an old computer stood at once side of the room and a row of cactuses adorned the windowsill. It certainly did not look like a place that had lain unoccupied for six years. Standing at the door, he was afraid to step any further, afraid that it might disturb the serene aura of the room, and stood there just gazing at everything, lost in his thoughts.

Suddenly, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder, Yumiko.

"Lunch is ready."

Following her down the steps, he stepped into a small dining room beside the kitchen that was as colourful and clean as the rest of the house. The couple he now knew were his parents were already seated and Yumiko pointed him to his place.

Looking at his parents, he silently compared the wrinkled and tired features that now occupied their faces to the blissful joy on their faces that he had seen in the family photos in the room. Guilt filled him instantly for he knew deep down that it was all his fault, he was the one who had attempted suicide and put them through the years of pain and sorrow.

"Sorry."

The words came before he could stop them, he wanted to weep like a child and beg their forgiveness, but he was a child no longer, and he knew he had no right to seek the convenient escape of crying, or even to ask their forgiveness, but he had to try.

No one spoke for a long while, then his mother nodded slowly, while his father reached over and tapped him firmly on the shoulder. The tender joy was mirrored in both pairs of eyes, Fuji knew then that he was forgiven, granted a privilege he did not deserve.

The words flow easily after that, the pain of the years seemed forgotten as the family chatted joyfully about everything, laughing and sharing, it was just like any other family meal, as if no one had ever been absent.

The joyful hours flew passed and it was soon time for Fuji to leave, and they let him go without tears or words of sorrow, but only with the promise that he will return next day, a promise that he knew he would keep.

Looking at the quiet streets of the city as the evening sun cast a dull shade of orange over the roads, he reflected upon the happenings of the day. He never expected it to be so simple; to find his family and to fit in so quickly; it was almost like he had never left, like things had never changed, like he was still the carefree youth that smiled at him from the countless photos.

Yet, he knew at the same time that things had indeed changed, they had changed so much, the past was hardly recognisable, perhaps it was because he had lost his memory, but he knew that things had changed not merely for him, but also for the family that he had just met, and surely for Atobe.

"_Keigo."_

His mind wandered back to the other, surely he must have been a carefree youth at one point, unburdened by the fragility of life and the horror of death, surely there was a point when the clear grey eyes had been filled with hope and joy, free of pain and sorrow.

A sudden hope filled his heart as a sudden thought entered his head. His parents had forgive him for the sorrow he brought them, he knew it was because they loved him far too much, he could see the love in their eyes with every glance and word. He knew too, that his feelings for Atobe were as real as their love, and he promised himself that no matter what happened, he would forgive the other man.

Perhaps then, he could restore the light to Atobe's eyes, to help him live a life separate from the past, to help him accept what had happened and leave the pain behind. Then, perhaps, they could always be together, free from the clutches of past memories.

Allowing his worries to fall away, a gentle smile crossed his lips as he thought about how he would get Atobe to visit his family with him the next day. He had wanted to keep from the other man initially, but he knew now that there could not be any secrets between them. He wanted to share all the joys and thoughts he had with Atobe, to treasure him for as long as he could.

* * *

End Chapter 10

Hope you enjoyed that!


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven 

Back at the apartment that night, Fuji picked slowly at his food as he observed Atobe over his plate, taking in the troubled look that occupied the dark grey eyes and the slight frown that creased his forehead.

The other man had been silent since they started eating, ignoring all of Fuji's attempts at basic conversation, replying all his questions with short one-word comments, forcing him to give up after a while, and allowing his mind to wander back to the earlier events of the night.

_Pushing the small metal key into the lock, Fuji barely had time to turn the key when the wooden door flew open and fell against the wall with a dull thud. Before he could recover his senses, the former tensai found himself pulled into a warm and sudden embrace, his face buried against the soft material of Atobe's sweater. _

_Yet, the warmth left him as suddenly as it came, for the taller man released him with sudden speed and grabbed his wrists instead. _

"_Where have you been?"_

_The gentle comfort of Atobe's embrace was gone, replaced by the cold fingers that curled around his wrists, shaking him savagely as the steely voice demanded an answer. _

_Fuji stood unmoving, slowing raising his head to meet the dark grey eyes of the man who held him prisoner. _

"_I…"_

_He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came, instead he shivered suddenly as a cold gust of wind entered through the open door. _

_Instantly, the steel-like fingers went limp and he felt his hand fall to his side, as the anger of Atobe's face was replaced by sudden embarrassment and guilt._

"_Sorry, I… I had no right to treat you like that… "_

_He trailed off, unsure of what to add, looking at the ground as he spoke. _

_The former tensai did not reply for a moment, joy flooded through his veins even as hot tears prickedt his eyes. He never realised how much it meant to him, to have someone who cared and thought of him so constantly, he felt somehow that he had betrayed Atobe, by secretly looking for his family, that he had no right to receive any kind of apology from the other, not when he should be the one apologising. _

"_Thank you. "_

_He whispered the words softly after a long time, his lips curving into a gentle smile as he looked up into the dark grey eyes. _

"Syuuske"

The single word broke his reverie as he looked up from his plate and stared questioningly at a silent Atobe Keigo, who had returned to looking uncertainly at the ground.

"Where did you go today?"

The question remained unchanged, yet the voice that spoke was soft and hesitant, with an air of finality, as if the speaker had put much thought into the few words

Fuji looked away slowly.

"I visited my family."

He spoke after a long pause, his voice soft yet firm, the word "family" feeling strange on his tongue even as he spoke.

Atobe did not reply, but merely sat silently, waiting for him to continue.

"I know I should have told you this, but I just wanted to see them for myself first, I got the address from my medical file…I'm sorry."

He ended the incessant blabbering with a soft apology, longing to explain himself, to find excuses for what he had done, but not knowing what to add at the same time.

"How was it?"

The short question uttered in a barely audible whisper caused him to look up in surprise, his eyes meeting the barely concealed anguish in the dark grey eyes. He could not bear to speak, to tell him that everything went well, that his family embraced him without second thought, for he saw the fear of loss that echoed in the dark eyes, the emptiness and the loneliness that occupied their depths.

"Come with me tomorrow."

It was more a plea than an invitation, a desire to tell Atobe that he will remain a part of his life even after he found his family.

Atobe nodded uncertainly after a moment, unable to reject the silent request in Fuji's eyes, he knew that it would be painful, to submerge himself into a piece of Fuji's past, to place himself where constant reminders of Tezuka would be present. But he had no choice, for he simply could not bear to extinguish the hope that burned in the clear blue eyes, to destroy the happiness that Fuji was slowly finding from the past.

He understood perfectly what Fuji meant to do; he knew that the former tensai believed that by sharing everything and discovering the past together, they would be able to leave the pain of their past behind and stay together. But he knew too that it was not possible, he had once witnessed the hatred in Fuji's eyes, the burning love and pain that had once occupied those depths, and he knew Fuji would never forgive him.

All he could do now was to treasure the time they spend together, to give Fuji as much joy as he could before he spent the rest of his life haunted by the memories of his loss.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Atobe stood up and begun to help clear the dishes as they finished their meal, allowing a comfortable silence to fall between them.

It was nearly noon the next day when the two men left the apartment, making their way towards the car park without a word, where Atobe promptly started the engine of the black sedan.

Staring at the steering wheel for a whole minute, he suddenly broke his previous silence.

"Where is it?"

The voice was polite and controlled, the words uttered in a calm business-like manner.

Fuji looked up in surprise, before handing the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket to the other man, and turning back wordlessly to stare out of the window.

A thousand questions overwhelmed him as he did so, he longed to ask Atobe about their past relationship, to find out what had happened before they fought over Tezuka. He had always assumed that they had once been close friends, but if that were true, then surely, Atobe would know his address.

The question was nearly out of his mouth before he bit it back, he simply could not bring himself to ask more questions about the past now, for he had not missed the fear and anguish that had flashed in Atobe's eyes the previous night, when he had asked him to come along today.

He understood the fear in those eyes, the fear of being submerged in the world of the past once more, the fear losing their current happiness. He was touched that Atobe had agreed; he knew he had no right to ask for even more. In fact, he had no right to ask for anything at all, for Atobe had already given him so much.

Focusing his eyes on the passing scenery outside, he forced himself to leave Atobe alone, even as he resisted the urge to turn around and ask to share the other man's troubles. It was a short journey, and they soon reached the neighbourhood. The familiar place, with the warm and gentle surroundings had a soothing effect on him and his lips slowly curved into a gentle smile at the thought of meeting his family once more.

Turning around to steal a glance at Atobe, he found his smile disappearing, for Atobe's face was a carefully sculpted mask of polite interest even as he concentrated on navigating the roads, his eyes were unreadable, and his mouth was set in a thin line, it was almost as if he was afraid that any sign of emotion might make him more vulnerable than he already was.

As he cast a long look at the other man, Fuji longed to reach over and take the slender hand in his own, to tear down the well-practiced mask, to look into the dark grey eyes and share the pain in them, to share the burden of the past, to tell him that he wasn't alone, and that he will never be. Yet at the same time, he knew better than to approach the emotional barrier Atobe had, he knew he had no right too, for it was his only protection.

Stifling a sigh, he returned turned his eyes back to the passing view of the outside world.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

The car drew to a slow stop outside the Fuji residence; Fuji Syuuske got out and headed towards the doorbell. But before he could press the button, the door flew open accompanied by a loud shriek.

"Syuuske!"

Atobe turned around even as he heard the word, just in time to see a beaming Fuji Yumiko embracing her brother, half dragging him towards the house at the same time. An acute sense of loneliness pricked at him as he saw the warmth and joy that filled the identical bright blue eyes as they beheld and embraced each other, the knowledge that he was going to lose Fuji to this joy pierced his heart, even as he struggled to remain calm.

Staring uncertainly at the house before him, Atobe carefully kept his features in that perfectly controlled mask; pushing aside the painful thought that Tezuka must have been familiar with the house.

Stepping hesitantly through the doorway, the warm and comfy atmosphere of the place struck him immediately, it was hardly big or particularly well furnished, but clearly filled with the warmth and love of its occupants. Happy memories could be seen in every corner of the living room, in the form of countless photos that occupied the walls, the gentle aroma of food cooking perfumed the whole place.

A mixture of envy and grief welled up in him at the same time, envy for he knew that though he had always got everything he wanted, his home was never as warm and comforting as this place, not until Fuji came along at least, and grief for he knew that there was nothing to stop Fuji from leaving him and returning to this warm shelter.

Atobe was lost in his reverie when he felt a gentle pressure on his wrist, looking up, he saw himself looking into the smiling face of a woman in her fifties.

"Atobe. "

Her voice was soft and gentle, shaking slightly as she spoke the name.

"Mrs Fuji."

He acknowledged her politely, ignoring the guilt that flooded him while he tried not to flinch at how much she had aged since the last time they met.

"We couldn't thank you enough."

Tears threatened to enter the brittle voice, even as an unmistakable smile brightened the delicate features.

"_And I couldn't be more sorry."_

He wanted to tell her that it was his fault her son was in coma for so long, that it was his fault she had aged so fast worrying about him over the years, that it was his fault that so many people were so unhappy. But the words refused to come as he stared at the hopeful and grateful smile of the woman, the sincere joy her eyes held, the lack of bitterness in those eyes,

Instead, he nodded silently, even as the woman across him hurriedly turned around to return to the kitchen, muttering incoherently about getting lunch even as she hastily wiped her tears with the back of her hand, unwilling to let her children share the burden of those sorrowful memories.

By now, Yumiko had finished examining every detail of her brother once more and they joined Atobe in the living room where he stood looking at all the photos that occupied the shelves.

"Keigo"

Fuji spoke softly, as if afraid to disturb him.

Atobe nodded silently, avoiding the bright blue eyes that he knew were filled with joy, happiness that he couldn't give.

"Do you want to see my room?"

The invitation was light and cheerful to the ears, yet the gentle plea in it was clear, and he knew how much it meant to Fuji that they shared everything, and that was perhaps the reason for him even coming today.

Nodding silently, he smiled politely at Fuji Yumiko who looked at them uncertainly before disappearing into the kitchen, and followed the other man up the stairs.

Standing at the doorway of the room, both men were silent as they looked on at a place that a teenager had clearly once occupied, countless trophies and books adorned the table and walls while a single tennis racket, kept in pristine condition hung on the wall.

"_Tennis"_

Atobe felt a familiar desire stir in him as he looked at the racket, accompanied by a dull ache. He had avoided the sport for so long, denying it, pretending that what had once meant so much to him did not even exist. He had not held a racket in the past six years, throwing away his books and trophies, the same objects that had once meant so much to him, flipping channels instantly whenever the sport was mentioned.

It was too painful, far too torturous to even see anything tennis-related, not when he remembered his last match so vividly, each and every stroke was clear in his head as well as the beautiful movements of his opponent.

They had ended that game with a draw, neither had really wanted to beat the other then, for it was no longer important to find out who was better, they were a team, a single entity, and that was all that mattered, nothing else made a difference.

"_Not even death."_

He silently reminded himself that they were still a team, a flawless pair even with Tezuka gone, for their love lived on deep in his heart, in his very soul, where it will lay unchanged forever.

"_What about Fuji?"_

Moving his eyes slowly from the neat, uncluttered desk, he glanced uncertainly at the man that stood silently beside him, taking in the thoughtful joy in the bright blue eyes, and remembering the time when they had been clouded with grief. He knew Fuji was part of their relationship, for he knew that Fuji loved Tezuka as much as he did, perhaps even more, and that love was not unrequited.

"I played tennis."

The soft words broke his reverie, slicing through his thoughts. He heard the hopeful plea behind the short statement, the uncertainty that echoed in the words, and he understood the other man's desire to uncover the truth without bringing them more sorrow. Yet, he knew too that it was not possible, for the truth was simply too painful.

He chose to ignore the unspoken question in the tensai's words, nodding silently instead, giving no indication of how much he knew and understood. They stood silently for a long moment, each consumed in his own thoughts, staring at the room of a boy that lived so long ago, staring at an innocence that they knew was gone forever.

"Syusuke."

The joyful voice of Fuji Yumiko rang out once more, asking the two to go down for lunch, breaking the pensive silence in the air. Turning slowly to look at Fuji, he smiled gently and placed his arm through that of the other, steering him gently towards the stairs, choosing to leave the memories behind him for that moment.

Lunch was a silent affair; the Fuji family seemed unwilling to speak though the older woman repeatedly offered her guest more food, staring at him through grateful eyes, while her husband tried more than once to offer him their best wine. Yumiko however, glanced repeatedly at Atobe, her eyes clouded and uncertain as she took in the tender warmth that passed between her brother and the man beside him, her forehead creased in a hesitant frown. She opened her mouth as if to speak for a few times, before firmly shutting it again.

It was after dinner that Yumiko finally spoke, choosing the moment when they were alone at the table, with her parents in the kitchen and Fuji in the bathroom.

"Atobe san, could you come out with me for a moment, I wish to show you something. "

Her voice trembled slight as she spoke; yet her words were firm.

Standing up slowly, the two exited the front door and walked silently in the tiny garden at the front of the house where Yumiko sat down slowly on a wooden chair and motioned towards her companion to do the same.

"I know you've been taking care of Fuji all these years, but …"

Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to continue, avoiding the eyes the tall man before her as she searched for what to say. Atobe remained silent, looking expressionlessly at the woman beside him.

"I don't know what happened exactly, but I understand that something unhappy went on between you two, which is why things are in this state now. Yuuta wouldn't tell me what happened, but I guessed part of it and…"

She turned her head to look into the dark eyes, seeing the look of painful comprehension that entered them slowly, the weary resignation that entered the polite smile on the aristocratic features.

"I understand. "

Atobe understood too well what she was driving at, for he knew better than anyone else that he was the person responsible for Fuji being in this state, and clear that the shadows of the past will one day return to haunt them.

"Give me some time."

He requested softly, his heart sinking even as he saw her nod silently.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen 

"Fuji. Lets go somewhere."

They were in the car, on the way home from the Fuji residence that they had left shortly after lunch upon Fuji's insistence. It was the first time Atobe had spoken directly to him that day and the former tennis prodigy looked up in surprise.

"I want to show you something."

Atobe elaborated shortly, as if sensing the question in his gaze.

Fuji remained silent, looking away from his companion's face, unable to continue looking at the painful determination in his eyes.

The silence continued for the rest of their ride.

Half an hour later, the car drew to a stop, in front of a cream-coloured building surrounded by a brick wall with strong metal gates. Beside the gates, the words Seishun Gakuen were printed clearly on the wall, it was a school.

Getting out of the car, they stood soundlessly at the gates for a moment, staring at the large words and at the building that lay within the compound.

"It's my junior high school."

Fuji broke the silence first, his controlled calm surprising even himself.

He had seen that name before, the name of the school. It was printed clearly on many of the trophies in his room and at the bottom of various photos displayed on his bedroom as well as on the graduation certificate on his wall.

Atobe nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"Tezuka studied here too."

He spoke softly, carefully, as if afraid to say the name out loud, afraid to lose the little that he had left of Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Fuji looked down at the ground, unsure of how to reply.

"Lets go in."

Before he could react, Atobe had walked forward, moving through the open gates and into the school grounds. He did not stop once he had entered the school compound, but instead continued to move forward, making his way easily through the school, his manner certain, as Fuji trailed slowly behind.

Atobe only stopped when they had reached the tennis courts.

"You were in the school team."

He said suddenly.

"Was I any good?"

Fuji regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. It was meant as a light-hearted joke, but came out as a pathetic attempt to ease the tense atmosphere. It was hardly a valid question after all; they had both seen the number of trophies in his room.

"You were one of the best. "

Atobe appeared to not have sensed his discomfort.

"You were in the team together with Tezuka. He was a brilliant player, one of the best I've ever met."

A gentle smile crossed his lips, sad and tender.

"He loved the game more than anything else."

He sounded wistful.

"_And you love him more than anything else."_

Fuji added silently to himself. A blunt ache pushed at him as he saw the momentary smile on Atobe's face, the sudden gentleness in the dark eyes, the warmth that he knew will never be showered on him.

Turning away from Atobe, he walked forward slowly, stepping into the courts, surveying the empty green grounds that appeared foreign and empty. The only thing that he remembered, the only feature that stirred any recognition in him was the air, the unique scent of the humid afternoon, the scent of the sun bearing down on the tennis courts.

It was as if he had once been there before, taking in the same unique scent.

He walked slowly to one end of the tennis courts, towards a bright yellow ball that lay there, forgotten.

"_Whoever left it there is going to be in trouble."_

It crossed his mind before he could think further, coming to him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Yet, he did not voice his thoughts out loud. Instead, he turned slowly towards Atobe.

"Let's have a game."

His voice was soft and thoughtful.

The other man started slightly, looking up in surprise for a moment.

"We need rackets."

"We can borrow them."

He pointed to the few old rackets that lay abandoned on a bench that sat against the nearby locker room. They were old but appeared usable.

"Lets play."

Picking up the ball from the ground and tossing a racket to Atobe, he moved towards one end of the court, holding a racket in his hand.

The hold came naturally to him, the handle of the racket fitted easily into his palm, as if it was always meant to be there. He bounced the ball with familiar ease, a sudden sense of déjà vu as he looked at Atobe across the net.

An unfamiliar emotion surged in him as he served the ball, watching its parabolic motion across the net. He watched as the other man hesitated for a moment before hitting back, a perfect swing directing the ball towards the ground. Without a second thought, he got into the best position to return the stroke straight away, the motions coming swiftly and thoughtlessly to him, as if his muscles had a mind of their own.

The dull rhythmic thuds of the tennis ball against their rackets and against the ground, the strangely familiar flow of adrenaline, the natural expectation of where the ball will next lend, it all came rushing into him, as if he had done this countless times before.

Vague memories of training in the same courts came to him, graphics and sounds without order or explanation, images of practising, training and cheering, they all came to him as he begun to sweat under the blistering afternoon heat.

The game ended in a draw. They stopped when each was too tired to move any longer, when they had ran out of moves to counter each other with, for the physical state of two men who had spend six years without practice was hardly able to reach the stamina of the youths they once were. Even though their skills and talent remained unchanged, their physical limits were very much lowered.

Lying tired on the courts in companionable silence, Fuji run through the countless images in his head once more, trying his best to sort them up, to organize them, to draw the links between them, while at the same time ignoring familiar sensation of slumping wearily against the courts that threatened to flood him with more scattered memories.

"Lets go."

Atobe finally stood up after a long while, moving forward and towards the gates without a backward glance, making his way towards the car.

Their ride home was once more in silence.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen 

It was late afternoon; Fuji Syusuke sat quietly in the living room, frowning in concentration as he stared at the newspaper on the table before him, a black pen in his hand as he bent forward occasionally to make neat notes on the countless little boxes that covered the sheet of paper.

It had been slightly more than a week since their return to Japan and Atobe had gone back to work. Their relationship had returned largely to the way things had been in England, the issue of the past and that tennis match was never mentioned; their conversations became once more light-hearted and careless.

The only visible difference was that Fuji made regular visits to his parents, fulfilling his duty as a son, trying his best to make up for the six long years that he had missed and assuring them that he was happy and healthy now. He had recovered his health in the months he spent in England, and while still slightly frail, was far from the pallid creature he was when he first regained consciousness.

In fact, he was now looking through the classified sections of the newspaper, hoping to find a job now that he was back in the country and able to communicate in the local language.

Bending down, he made a neat cross beside one of the boxes.

It appeared that everything was fine, as if the past no longer mattered.

Yet, they both knew the truth. Beneath the calm surface, the mutual trust that they had once shared was slowly eroding, there was a fear of revealing too much, of bringing about once more the awkward issues that existed in their relationship, of hastening the time of revelation and thus separation. The seemingly careless remarks exchanged over dinner were carefully scripted, any reference to the past studiously avoided, their easy laughter was forced and hollow, as if trying to preserve the relationship they once shared, pretending that nothing had changed.

He had carefully avoided mentioning his search for a job to Atobe, aware that his recovery and return to mainstream life will only make their previous relationship seem further and their parting nearer. He stirred clear too from talking about his family, feeling somehow that it will serve only to make the shadow of the past darker, he chose to ignore the fact that Atobe was no longer the only person he loved and cared for. Yet, perhaps the most important thing he kept from Atobe, and the truth he protected most strongly and faithfully, was the fact that his memory was slowly coming back, the recollections of the past was slowly returning to him.

The images came slowly, along with the uncomfortable sense of vague familiarity that confronted him in certain situations, when seeing certain items. It was nothing similar to what happened in the dramatic soaps they showed on television so often, the memories didn't begun flooding back in a flash, they came gradually, with the occasional sudden outburst, in the form of sudden pictures and sounds that made no sense to him, scenes that he tried his best to connect and make sense of.

It was hardly the first time that he was getting such images, hints that he had a past; rather it had begun long ago when they were still in Britain. Yet, the images came more rapidly now and more clearly than ever, and his thoughts were clearer now with the background picture than Atobe had provided, his mind more able to put together the bits of his memory.

He had a vague picture of his childhood life by now, remembering the most insignificant yet important details, the occasional family holidays to the seaside, the time they spent together watching television every evening, the family breakfasts at the long dining table every morning. He recalled too the long route he took to school everyday, the lessons he had sat through patiently, the times he had played tennis in the public courts with his brother.

"Yuuta."

A smile crossed his lips as he spoke the name out loud.

He put the pen on the table, leaning back to take a break.

He had yet to meet his brother, the younger man was away in Korea for work-related matters and was unable to return last week despite the urgent insistence of his mother. Instead, he was returning tomorrow and Fuji was scheduled to join them for dinner tomorrow night.

He looked forward to seeing his brother; he knew somehow that while he was close to his parents and sisters, Yuuta was the person he was closest to. He remembered clearly the times they shared as children; the countless happy moments, and he felt sure that even with his long absence, the intimacy they once enjoyed will remain unchanged. In fact, he felt somehow that they might spend the entire night talking away.

Yet, just as that thought crossed his mind, a troubled expression entered the clear blue eyes.

He had not yet mentioned it to Atobe. It had crossed his mind a few times but he never mustered enough courage to say the words, to make the existence of the outside world, the world that contained more than just them, more real. He was afraid of Atobe, afraid of his reaction, or rather his lack of a reaction, his silent acceptance and the resignation in his dark eyes.

Yet, he knew he had no choice.

Straightening up, he closed the newspaper and looked up at the clock of the wall.

It was nearly six.

Walking into the kitchen, he started to prepare dinner.

Cooking was a talent that seemed to be innate. Out of everything he had forgotten, he remembered how to cook, grasping the time that a fish should stay in a pot to get sufficiently cook without tasting overcooked down to the second. In less than an hour, he had completed the entire preparation and cooking of their dinner, using the ingredients he bought from the supermarket in the morning.

At seven o'clock, the doorbell sounded. Atobe was back.

Dinner was an unusually silent affair. Atobe made a few weak attempts at conversation, but Fuji responded only half-heartedly, careful considering how to broach the subject in the least painful manner. Picking slowly at his foot, he waited for his chance to speak, dreading the moment that he knew will come. Finally, he could wait no longer, they were near the end of their meal; most of the food was gone.

"Keigo."

He broke the silence, looking up to meet Atobe's gaze.

"Yuuta is returning tomorrow, I'll be going home for dinner."

There was no immediate response. It was as if the man before him was still trying to absorb the information.

"My brother."

He felt the need to add suddenly.

"I know."

The voice that finally spoke was low and husky, the dark eyes turned back towards the plate.

"Go ahead, I won't be back for dinner anyway, there's some work I need to finish up. "

His tone was deliberately light as he stared down at his food.

Fuji nodded slowly, as if to himself, for he knew Atobe was not looking in his direction at all.

Standing up slowly, he begun to clear the table, bring the emptied dishes to the kitchen and placing them in the sink. Atobe joined him a moment later and they did the washing together as they always did, the only difference was that it was done in silence today.

The absence of words continued for the rest of the evening.

Atobe retreated to his room immediately after completing the washing. His eyes were carefully lowered as he mumbled an excuse about being tired, his voice low and guarded, as if afraid to reveal too much, the cold mask was back in place.

Watching the door close behind the other man, Fuji returned to his own bedroom silently. Wrapping his arms around himself, he closed his eyes and willed himself to be tired, ignoring the annoying ache that gnawed at him, waiting for sleep to claim him.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen 

The familiar scent of tobacco and cheap perfume mingled with sweat and spilled alcohol pushed firmly into his lungs as soon as he stepped into the dimly lit pub. Lights of every colour bounced off the walls and tasteless loud music blared from the low quality speakers, no more than rhythmic noise, yet sufficient to set the countless young bodies on the dance floor moving along.

It had been six years. Yet, some things remained unchanged.

Atobe made his way to the counter, his steps sure and rapid, settling himself on a seat at the corner of the bar. Signalling to the bartender, he decided rapidly upon his order, the dose of cheap alcohol that he had came for.

His drink soon came in an unwashed mug cracked at the rims.

Picking up the heavy glass mug, he brought it carefully to his sleeps, sniffing at it for a moment, taking in the strong bitter perfume that pricked at his eyes. Tilting the mug slowly, he emptied it contents down his throat, enjoying the familiar burning sensation that it brought, allowing the hateful taste of the bittersweet liquid to fill his mouth.

The mug was empty when he put it down. He signalled for another.

He took no pleasure in the once intoxicating mixture, the shimmering gold appeared false and unreal to him, failing to fascinate him the way it once did. The cigarette smoke and music gave him a headache; he hated the odour of stale perfume that attached itself his suit. Yet, he continued to down the liquid, forcing it into his system, seeking the half-conscious state that he longed for, ignoring the burning pain in his mouth and throat.

It was not long before a row of emptied glasses stood neatly before him, lined up carefully on the tabletop, as if bearing testimony to his efforts.

He was slumped heavily against the counter, his body having lose all the strength to support itself, the effects of alcohol clouding his physical mind and making his head hurt.

Yet, Atobe remained conscious.

The knowledge that he had sought to forget remained stubbornly entrenched in his head, refusing to go away despite the clouding numbness that the alcohol brought. The burning stream of cold alcohol down his throat provided only temporary respite for as soon as the glass was emptied, the dull despair in his heart returned to haunt him.

The only effect of alcohol was to compound his pain.

"_Syusuke."_

He muttered softly to himself, his lips pressed against the rim of a new glass, his senses now numbed to the bitter odour.

He understood too well the fact that their relationship was changing, that Fuji was slowly moving away from him and returning to the life he had led before the accident and he knew that it was inevitable, he knew he couldn't blame the other man, he had no right to.

He looked forward to going home everyday, yet he hated it at the same time. He wanted to meet Fuji, to see him as much as he could, to treasure the precious time they still had left. Yet, he hated the careful play that was put up whenever they were together, the false laughter and cheeriness, the fear that scented their relationship, the fear of loss that made them forget to enjoy each other's company, the fear that brought about insecurity and secrets in their relationship.

He knew that Fuji was looking for job; he saw the neat marks that the other had made on the recruitment sections when Fuji had accidentally left the paper beside the telephone. He understood too, the reason that Fuji had hidden it from him, and continued to pretend that he was ignorant, deliberately buying newspapers with more substantial recruitment sections and leaving them discreetly around the house.

He longed to take the other in his arms, to tell him that things will not change, to beg him to accept the situation as it was and treasure the time they had left together rather than torture them both by trying to slow down the process. Yet, he knew he had no right to that, to ask Fuji to enjoy their state of togetherness would merely by tricking them both into living a lie, his lie, the lie that he could ever make Fuji happy.

He buried his head in his hands, trying his best to ignore the increasingly violent ache in his head. A group of young dancers walked past chatting noisily, their perfume strong and overpowering, lingering heavily behind them.

He felt nauseous suddenly, he coughed and a wave of disgust overwhelmed him as the alcohol threatened to spill out of his throat. Standing up slowly with all the strength and balance that he could muster, he pulled his wallet out and threw a note on the counter before dragging himself out of the bar and into the cold night.

It was nearly midnight when he turned the lock to enter the apartment, having spent an hour resting in the car before regaining enough strength for the short drive home. The house was dark when he entered and he made his way to his room without turning on the lights. He cast a glance at Fuji's room on his way, noticing that it was dark and the door wide open.

"_Fuji was not back yet."_

Pushing aside the painful mental image of the Fuji family sitting around the dining table, talking and laughing, and the silent reminder that Fuji no longer needed him, he stumbled into his own bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

Once inside the room, he fell backwards onto his bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes, making up his mind that everything else could wait till the next morning. Yet, even as his back made contact with something soft and warm beneath him, he jumped up suddenly, realising that he was not the only person on the bed.

He turned around in alarm.

Fuji Syusuke was fast asleep on his bed, curled up on top of the covers, his arm wrapped protectively around himself, his head half buried against the pillows. He slept peacefully, his skin paler than ever other the cold moonlight, his lips were nearly a translucent white and a gentle frown crossed his features and his arms tightened around his thin frame, as if trying to shield himself from the cold night.

Staring at the man before him for a moment. Atobe sighed softly as he gently picked up a blanket and placed it gently over the other, tucking it carefully around him to keep him warm. He sat down to adjust the pillows next, lifting the other man's head gently to position the pillow under his hair.

With a start, he realised that the pillow was wet.

Gently shifting his hand towards Fuji's face, he touched the flawless skin gently, running his fingers over the well-carved cheekbones and feeling the damp stickiness against his skin, the telltale remnants of tears.

He felt a sudden ache in his heart as the vulnerability of the man before him suddenly became clearer, the guilt of being available when Fuji most needed him gnawed at his heart. The image of the thin frame lying alone on his bed, shaking with tears and pain tore at his heart and conscience.

Bending down slowly, he placed his lips upon the smooth cheekbones, pressing them upon the pale skin. Gently, he licked the tearstains away, tasting the salty bitterness upon his lips, the remnants of sorrow of helplessness. His lips travelled downwards slowly, warm and gentle against the cold skin, moving unconsciously towards the other man's lips.

Covering the cold, slight-parted lips with his own, he kissed the sleeping man gently, taking in the warm in the caverns of his mouth and filling his senses with Fuji's scent. The man beneath him grunted softly, warm breath escaped from his lips that parted further, exposing his teeth fully. The kiss deepened as Atobe became more daring, his tongue boldly exploring the depths that he had tasted once before and hungered after for so long, his actions became rougher and more urgent as his hands reached out to pull Fuji closer, reducing the narrow distance between their bodies, enjoying the soft warm feeling of the other man in his arms.

Finally, when he was out of breath and thoroughly exhausted, he released Fuji gently arranging him carefully under the covers before lying down beside him. Casting a final glance at the slender figure that remained peacefully asleep, it was barely seconds before Atobe fell into a deep slumber, no longer able to hold out against the effects of alcohol.

Soon, there was no more movement on the huge double bed; the only sound in the room was the rhythmic, even breathing of Atobe.

Fuji opened his eyes slowly and carefully, his vision was blurred and unclear when he turned his head to look at the man beside him. He held his breath as the warm tears coursed down his cheeks, careful not to make a sound as he wept quietly to himself; the taste of Atobe still fresh in his mouth.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen 

The cold sunlight shone through the thin curtains and onto the bed, piercing mercilessly through his eyelids and forcing him to wake up.

He sat on the bed for a brief moment, staring uncertainly around the unfamiliar room before the events of the previous night returned to him. The dazed expression in his eyes was replaced by a wistful sorrow as he turned to look at the empty space beside him. Lying down slowly on the other side of the bed, he allowed himself to stay there, trying his best to savage the warmth that once occupied that space.

The events of the previous night wandered back to him as he laid there, the reason for him being in Atobe's room at all.

Yuuta returned yesterday and he brought a friend back with him for dinner, a tall redhead. Fuji remembered him instantly.

"Eiji." 

In spite of himself, he smiled as he spoke the name once more, enjoying the familiar taste it left upon his lips. He never thought he could miss anyone so much, not until he finally met Kikumaru Eiji, then the memories came flooding back and he remembered the times they had spent together, playing tennis when they were young, going out together after school, doing each other's homework.

The redhead looked the same, his face remained cheerful and the same smile danced across his lips, his tall athletic figure was unchanged. Yet, when he moved forward to embrace Eiji, he could see the sadness in his friend's eyes, the sorrowful pity that occupied the depths he remembered as permanently sparkling.

He chose not to mention it, allowing himself to be caught up in Eiji's joyful temperament, responding actively to his jokes and joining easily in his laughter, it was as if it was only yesterday that there were still students, the six years of separation appeared to have no effect on their relationship.

In contrast, Fuji Yuuta was quiet and reserved, appearing ill at ease as he looked at his brother, uncertainty and a slight awkwardness clouded his eyes; his manner was polite and slightly foreign.

Dinner was more noisy than usual with Kikumaru's presence, he went beyond making up for Yuuta's silence with his characteristic loud actions, praising Mrs Fuji's cooking loudly and complimenting Fuji Yumiko unabashedly for her ability to look younger by the day.

After dinner, the three young men gathered in Yuuta's room while their father watched television in the living room and Yumiko went to the kitchen to assist her mother with dishes. They were upstairs on Yuuta's insistence that he had something to show them both, the only thing that he had said all evening above the usual polite greetings.

"You lost your memory."

The younger Fuji spoke as soon as he pushed the door shut behind him, his voice questioning and slight accusatory.

The only response he received was a slightly hesitant nod.

"You are living with Atobe now."

His tone became harsher.

Fuji nodded once more as a look of pure horror crossed the face of the redhead who had been previously staring at them with a puzzled expression.

"Atobe Keigo?"

He interrupted before Fuji Yuuta could say another word, his voice hard and angry; a sharp contrast with the cheerful tone from earlier.

He swore under his breath as Fuji nodded calmly once again.

"Do you have any idea what he did?"

His voice was threateningly soft.

"He killed Tezuka and he destroyed your life. The bastard."

He answered his own question before Fuji spoke, anger radiating every syllable.

"And as if that was not enough, he is lying to you now too. "

He continued without pausing.

"I'll kill him."

At the last words, he turned around suddenly, angry hatred in his eyes as he started towards the door, as if heading for the invisible target that was Atobe.

"Stop it."

Fuji Yuuta was at the door suddenly. He placed his hands on Kikumaru's shoulders and pushed him back forcefully, not stopping until the older man was seated on the bed and safely away from the door.

"It happened so long ago, and he took care of you for the last six years. Lets just forget it and not have anything to do with him anymore. You can move back here tomorrow and none of us will have to see him again."

He spoke facing his brother, but his words were directed at the redhead too.

"You can slowly get your memory back at home."

He added as an afterthought, his voice uncertain as he wondered if the past should be remembered at all.

"Its fine. "

It was the first time Fuji spoke since they had entered the room. His voice was calm and peaceful when he said the words, seemingly oblivious to the anger in both his younger brother and his childhood friend.

"Its not."

Kikumaru shouted suddenly. He would have said more if not for the sharp look that Fuji Yuuta cast in his direction.

"You should stay away from Atobe."

His voice was deliberately calm but the troubled look in his eyes was evident.

"I know about it."

He spoke quietly, his eyes lowered, oblivious to the sudden shock that crossed the faces of the other two.

"Keigo told me everything. Its all in the past."

"Its fine."

He repeated the words once more, convincing both himself and them that everything was fine; that the past no longer mattered for the present happiness was more important.

"Keigo."

Kikumaru Eiji repeated the word slowly, his voice barely audible.

He stood up suddenly and walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind him as he made his way toward the room on the opposite end of the landing.

It was the bedroom of Fuji Syusuke.

When he returned, he held a book in his hand, a brown leather-bound book no bigger than a notebook. He placed it carefully on the table beside Fuji before sitting down quietly on the bed once more.

Fuji picked the book up gently, it was an old book, the year was carefully printed on the cover in neat handwriting he recognised as his own, it was nearly a decade old and yet in pristine condition. He flipped it open slowly; it was a photo album, a bright picture of a group of teenagers smiled joyfully at him from the first page.

He recognised every face in the picture, he was in it too, along with Eiji. It was a picture of the Seigaku team, taken right after they had won the national tennis tournament. The joy on every face was evident, the bright, open smiles that reflected youth and energy, they were all happy, Eiji, Echizen, Inui, Oishi, Momoshiro, Kawamura and the last face, the one that wasn't smiling, but the person he knew was happier than all of them.

"_Tezuka."_

He said the name in his mind, memories of the bespectacled youths surfacing in his mind even as he stared at the unyielding face in the picture, memories that he always knew existed but made no sense at all begun to make sense now.

He remembered the first they met, when they were both first-years students. He had been attracted to Tezuka even then, his calm logical intelligence, his upright and stubborn nature, the passion for tennis that laid below the calm exterior, waiting to be discovered. Tezuka excited him, the strong contrast in their personalities made him want to understand the other; to find for himself the passion and energy below the cold mask.

Tezuka fascinated him right from the start, he never wanted so badly to be friends with anyone, to be seen as someone who could be trusted and relied on. They got on well together; they shared a common love, tennis. Fuji had never cared much about the game before, it was a talent that came naturally to him as so many others did, he played when he wanted to, to enjoy himself, losing or winning meant nothing.

Yet, all that changed when he met Tezuka, he wanted to be his rival somehow, not merely in terms of skills and scores but rather in his love for the game. He wanted to experience for the thrill of loving something, of feeling an all-consuming passion for match.

He succeeded in the end. He grew to love tennis. Yet, he failed too, for he fell for Tezuka more strongly than he did for tennis.

He knew he loved him from the time Tezuka hurt his arm, he knew his feelings for the other went beyond the borders of friendship when he begun to blame Tezuka for risking his health for that game, when he begun to become jealous of Atobe's ability to bring Tezuka's passion to the surface and when he begun to want Tezuka to see him more than as a friend.

He kept silent then, refusing to voice his feelings until the end of their third year, when he could bear it no more.

It was the night after the nationals. The last victory they would celebrate together before they all moved on to different high schools, the last time they would be teammates and schoolmates. It was his last chance.

They all took alcohol that night, Fuji more than anyone else as he tried to give himself the courage to speak. It didn't work, he faltered as soon as he met the other's eyes.

Tezuka sent him home that night, supporting him all they way as he was barely able to stand. They stop at the park on their way back to take a break, sitting down on a bench, with Fuji leaning lightly against the other man. His heart beat faster than usual, and it was due to more than the effects of the alcohol, the closeness of the other made him shivered slightly.

He looked up slowly, taking in the familiar sight of the perfectly sculpted face, allowing his eyes to run over the outline of the thin-rimmed spectacles, travelling over the smooth cheekbones before arriving at the thin red lips. He reached up suddenly, he was unsure of whether it was the effect of the alcohol or merely his own desires refusing to be suppressed any longer. With accurate aim, his lips landed exactly upon the thin red lips and he begun to taste it greedily, taking in the scent he had sought for so long.

To his surprise, Tezuka responded.

That moment, his happiness was complete.

"Fuji."

Kikumaru Eiji's soft voice brought him back to the present, reaching his fingers up to his cheeks, he realised that the cold wetness on it came from his eyes. His tears fell silently even as he stared at the photo, the memories more vivid than ever.

"I'm fine."

He tone left no room for argument.

"Its late. I should go."

Wiping his face carefully, he removed all hints of his tears before heading downstairs to bid farewell to his parents, giving an excuse about having an appointment the next day to explain his early departure.

In less than half-an-hour, he was sitting in a cab and on his way home.

His mind was in a state of distress.

He remembered the past; he remembered it clearly. Tezuka's love and his subsequent betrayal, Atobe's actions, Tezuka's death, they all came back to him.

Yet, he felt none of the emotions that he knew he was supposed to feel.

His memory of the past remained distant to him; it was a story with a brilliant plot but no real feelings. He saw it from a foreign perspective, as if he was part of the audience in a cinema screening his life. He wept then, when he remembered Tezuka, but it was merely because his heart was captured by the pure love they once shared.

The feelings of the past were gone, and he knew they would never return. When he attempted to think about Atobe's betrayal, all he could remember was the gentle touch of the other man and his warm comforting hold, the hatred was insignificant to him, it no longer mattered.

He knew the person he now loved was Atobe.

"I love you."

He repeated the words softly to himself, suddenly aware that he was still lying on Atobe's bed, the place where he had fallen asleep crying while waiting for Atobe to return the previous night, waiting for Atobe to return so that he could confess his feelings.

But it didn't matter really.

There was no need for him to say anything.

He loved Atobe, and that was enough.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen 

At seven o'clock, the doorbell sounded.

Fuji emerged from the kitchen and moved to open the door, removing the apron around his waist as he walked.

"You are back."

He greeted easily, a bright smile on his face, gesturing towards the table as the other man stepped into the apartment.

"Lets eat."

They ate in silence initially, as Fuji pondered over his words. The scene that he had spent the whole day rehearsing played once more in his head and he gulped down a mouthful of water to clear his throat before speaking.

"I'm looking for a job."

He tried his best to appear casual, pretending that he had not deliberately hid it for so long.

Atobe appeared surprised for a brief moment.

"What do you want to do?"

He regained his composure quickly.

"I'm not sure yet. "

"I see."

He was careful not to probe further.

"Any ideas?"

Fuji asked suddenly, the smile on his face widened as looked at the man before him.

"I'm not sure what you like to do."

Atobe remained cautious, his tone politely interested yet deliberately unconcerned at the same time.

"Right."

Fuji looked down at his plate. The smile on his face slowly fading, replaced by a troubled expression.

"Keigo."

He spoke after a long moment.

Standing up quietly, he walked slowly towards the other man, taking in the uncertainty in his eyes and the weariness in his features as he moved closer. Suddenly, without any warning, he buried his head firmly against the taller man's shoulder, his face against Atobe's neck as he begun to weep.

He tried to speak but words failed him. The tears continued to fall.

He felt Atobe's arms going gently around him, supporting him steadily and pulling him closer. He buried himself further against the warm body, losing himself in the familiar scent that he longed for, seeking comfort in the gentle heat and rhythmic heartbeat.

The words that he longed to say burst out in the whole torrent of tears, he was tired, scared and worried, afraid to lose the happiness they once had. It was a fear he had harboured since the first time he heard about their past, but it came to him more acutely than ever now, for now he realised that he never wanted to lose the man that sat before him, that he loved him.

They sat there together for a long time.

Atobe remained silent as Fuji wept, allowing the warm tears to seep through the material of his shirt and fall against his skin, holding the other man close as he fought to steady the thin figure than shook gently with every muffled cry.

Finally, the sobs turned soften and the shaking became less violent. After a long while, all was silent. Fuji's eyes were closed peacefully, his face was pale and exhausted and his leaned weakly against Atobe.

Picking him up gently, Atobe returned to his own room with Fuji in his arms, laying him gently down on the bed beside him, watching the tear-stained face in the same way that he did the previous night, his aching as he fought to imagine what could have brought such an outburst.

Fuji stirred suddenly.

"Keigo."

The weak voice sounded, soft and pleading.

Atobe leaned forward instantly, gently placing his hand on the silky brown hair, stroking him gently with soft calming motions.

"Keigo."

He repeated, more urgently this time as the blue eyes opened slowly, the remnants of teardrops remained on his eyelashes.

Atobe did not speak, but watched him silently, his eyes unreadable.

"I don't want to remember the past anymore."

His voice was suddenly strong, a mere whisper yet filled with firm certainty.

He saw the surprise in Atobe's face that moment, followed by a bitter smile that flashed across his face.

Atobe remained silent.

"Let's be together always.

It was a plea. His eyes were hopeful as he looked up into the dark eyes.

The only response was silence.

A hint of fear crossed his eyes and Fuji moved forward suddenly, weakly wrapping his arms around Atobe's neck before leaning towards his face and pressing his own lips against the other's lips. The arms that he had wrapped around Atobe's neck tightened as he reduced the distance between them further, fearing that Atobe would push him away.

Atobe remained motionless.

The former tensai ran his tongue hungrily against the other man's lips, losing itself in the sweetness that he claimed as his own as a sudden sense of déjà vu overtook him. The memory of the previous night returned to him, the taste of alcohol on the warm breath, the intoxicating feeling of a foreign presence exploring his mouth, the thrill of having Atobe so close to him. With that memory, he turn bolder, pushing his tongue through the half-parted lips, teasing and hungry as he ran his lips across the neat rows of teeth, tasting the fruit that he sought after for so long.

Suddenly, he felt a warm pressure against his waist as Atobe pulled him closer. The caverns that he had explored so freely sudden became less inviting as he found himself turning form invader into victim, as the familiar presence from the night before invading his mouth once again, firing his desires and eliciting a moan of pleasure from his throat even as he fought to breathe.

His lips were hardly in a position to do anything else, but his heart was singing.

When they finally broke apart for oxygen, a tiny smile crept up his lips.

"_We will be together, for eternity."_

He promised himself, as sleep claimed him.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen 

He walked leisurely down the aisle, smiling as he surveyed the colourful displays, watching as mothers pushed their toddles inside the shopping carts and as older children tried their best to cajole their harried mothers into buying more treats.

It was a Wednesday morning, and he was probably the only young man walking around a supermarket, shopping for groceries. It was embarrassing really, the curious glances that he received from the regular shoppers, the crowds of mothers who gathered together to shop daily, but Fuji Syusuke didn't care; he never did.

It had been two months since that night and Fuji had found work as a translator, translating English documents to Japanese or vice versa. He never received any formal training in that area, but grasped it easily with his fluent command of both languages, and worked from the apartment, going put only to shop for groceries or to receive and submit assignments.

It was a leisurely life.

He reflected as he strolled down the huge empty aisle, listening to the idle chatter of the housewives and occasional childish laughter.

It was hardly what he had expected to do one day, his dreams as a teenager had gone further than that, but it was fine with him now. Anyway, his job scope was limited as he had not finished university, and it was probably the best he could do.

His parents were glad to that he had found a job, and they trusted Atobe to take care of him, feeling that they were indebted to him. Even Yumiko seemed to have forgotten her reservations regarding Atobe and was merely thankful for the fact that her brother was happy. The only opposition came in the form of Fuji Yuuta, he opposed Atobe vehemently but he knew too that nothing he said or did could make his brother changed his mind, resorting instead to reluctant acceptance or rather a grudging indifference.

Things between Atobe and him appeared to have return to the time when they had been in England, their relationship was frank and trusting, there were no secrets between them for they shared everything.

At that thought, a tiny guilt pricked at Fuji.

He had merely explained to Atobe that thinking about past events gave him a headache and he saw no point in making them both suffer the agony of those memories. They had each other, and they didn't need that past, for the present was all that mattered. Yet, he conveniently left out the fact that he remembered everything; he remembered the tennis tournaments; the matches he played, his friends, his school life, Tezuka.

He saw no need to mention that to Atobe, he chose to pretend that he had forgotten everything, for he believed firmly that they could only move forward if they left the past behind. His feelings for Tezuka still existed, but they were a past event, detached from the present, belonging to another time and era, the one he loved now was Atobe.

He had completed his shopping, wheeling that cart towards the cashier, he removed his wallet to pay the bill before exiting the store with two huge bags in hand, making his way in the direction of the apartment.

"_I'll make you love me too." _

He promised himself that as he walked slowly down the streets.

He knew that Atobe still felt for Tezuka, he saw the occasional grief in the dark eyes when they huddled together in the cold nights, the subtle sorrow that entered the dark eyes, the distant smile on his lips even as he held Fuji close.

"_Tezuka hated the cold."_

It was the first thing that occurred to him as he watched Atobe, for he remembered too well the times they had spent sitting close together at night, his hands wrapped around Tezuka's cold fingers, warming them. He shuddered lightly then, as his heart filled with pain at the thought that Atobe must have knew that too.

But it didn't matter now, Tezuka was gone forever, and he would make Atobe leave the shadows of the past behind.

Turning the key into the lock, he pushed the door open and walked in to place his shopping on the door before turning around to close the door behind him.

Walking into the living room, he noticed that he was not alone in the house; a smile crossed his lips as he walked towards the tall figure on the couch.

"You are…"

His words stopped in mid-breath as he stared at the pale complexion of the man before him, the dark eyes were closed in weariness and his lips were nearly translucent.

"Keigo. Are you sick?"

His voice dropped to a careful whisper, afraid to disturb the man before him.

Atobe opened his eyes slowly, appearing dazed for a moment as he saw Fuji's face hovering close to his own, before a guarded expression crossed his features.

"Kikumaru called me this morning."

He spoke softly; there was no trace of emotions in his words.

Fuji sunk silently down on the couch beside him.

It was not difficult to guess the content of their conversation, Eiji must have knew that he remembered everything, it was not difficult to tell, not after his reaction upon seeing that old photo album.

"You remember everything."

Confirming his thoughts, Atobe spoke once more. It was not a question or an accusation, but a merely statement. His tone suggested that he was speaking about a manner unrelated to him; there was no anger or joy in his voice.

Fuji nodded. He knew there was no point in denying anything.

"I'm sorry."

Atobe's voice was weary when he spoke, yet at the same time, it contained a hint of relief, as if a burden he carried for a long time was had been finally removed.

Fuji looked up in surprise. It was only a moment later that the reason for the apology occurred to him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

"Now that you know everything, I think we shouldn't be together anymore. I've applied for a transfer from the company, I'll be moving back to London. You can continue staying here if you like, I bought the apartment."

Everything was said in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Why?"

It was all he could bring himself to say, he knew the reason, but he wanted to hear it for himself.

Atobe appeared surprised for a brief moment, a flash of pain entered his eyes before he regained his composure and spoke.

"You know everything. I caused Tezuka's death. I brought about your misery. You have every right to hate me, I don't wish to bring you more pain."

It was all said in the same clipped tone, with the slightest stumble over Tezuka's name.

Fuji felt his heart clenched tightly for a brief second before a sudden numbness overcome him, everything begun to appear unreal, he became an audience watching the exchange, slowly analysing each word.

He knew then that his question had been a mistake, a deliberate error that served only to deepen his agony. Atobe's words were not what answered him, rather, it was the pain in the dark eyes that had gave a reply, the eyes that filled visibly with pain as Tezuka's name was mentioned.

"_You still love him."_

His lips moved but he refused to utter the statement, for he failed the affirmative answer he expected would kill him.

"I see."

He settled for a non-committal answer, his voice becoming toneless and emotionless as well.

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

He paused.

"Take care of yourself."

He added as an afterthought before turning away, moving in the direction of his bedroom.

"Keigo."

A soft voice sounded behind him, stopping him just as he reached for the doorknob.

"Do you love me? Have you ever loved me?"

He spoke calmly, as if merely talking about the weather.

Atobe found himself transported back to the past.

_The piercing blue eyes were filled with despair and pain; the anger previously present was long gone. He was tired, too tired to be angry anymore, for he knew that he had lost. But he just wanted to know, to know if the man that had hurt him so much still loved him, to know if he had even been loved. When he spoke, his words were a bare whisper; filled with fear and pain. _

"_Tezuka, do you love me? Have you ever loved me?"_

The first time he heard that question had been nearly a decade ago and he never thought it would be directed at him one day. While the pain and despair he saw in the deep blue eyes once filled him with victory, the sorrow he knew must be present now served only to pain him.

"I'm sorry."

He gave the same answer as Tezuka had done so many years ago. Yet, while Tezuka had given it because he had found a person he truly loved for himself, Atobe gave it to protect the one he loved.

Pushing the door open, he walked slowly into the room before closing the door shut behind him.

"Yes."

Sinking into the ground beside the closed door, he buried his head in his arms, the single syllable escaping softly from his lips as the tears began to fall.


	19. Epilogue

Epilogue

A tall man walked confidently into the tiny shop, appearing unconcerned as the layers of dust brushed against his evidently expensive suit, his dark eyes studied the displays carefully, searching.

The shopkeeper approached, a tiny old man who wrinkled features that appeared as ancient as everything else in the tiny shop.

"Can I help you?"

He spoke slowly and waited patiently for an answer, a sharp contrast to the rapid pace of the world outside his tiny shop.

"I'll take a look around first."

The man answered smoothly, continuing his careful search as the old man bowed politely before returning to his stool at a corner.

He continued looking around, running his fingers gently over the intricate ornaments, admiring the elegant beauty that never diminishes with age. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

It was a small crystal ball, a tiny object that glowed a slight shade of pink when held against the light.

He picked it up carefully, enjoying the feel of the smooth, cooling surface against his skin, gently dusting off the layers of dirt that had covered it.

"You like that."

The old man spoke suddenly, a tiny smile on his face as he took in the sight before him, the picture of a man approaching thirty gently caressing the ball as a child would a precious toy.

He saw the answer when the man looked up in surprise.

"You can have it."

He offered.

"A young man not unlike yourself brought it in this morning. He insisted on leaving it behind. "

At his words, the man smiled, a tiny smile, slow and careful, joyful with a hint of sorrow that made it more touching to watch.

"Thank you. But I'll leave it here where it should belong."

He gently replaced the ball on the shelves before moving rapidly out of the shop.

He was late.

Ten minutes later, he walked into a tiny eatery, a modest restaurant filled with old world charm, as removed from the outside world as its owner, an elderly old woman with a strong country accent and washed apron tied around her plump waist.

"Fuji."

He called out even before he reached the table, recognizing the brown hair and slender figure the instance he entered the room.

The man turned around slowly, joy in the blue eyes.

"You came."

There was a hint of surprise in his voice as he stood up slowly and unsteadily.

They had both rehearsed so long for this moment, but when it came, all the memorised lines were forgotten, the script dumped conveniently into the crackling fire that burned merrily at the old fireplace.

They moved slowly towards each other, meeting in a strong embrace at midway.

"I love you."

Atobe spoke the words slowly.

It was a confession that was three years overdue.

They had made an agreement then, at the airport, to spend three years apart, forgetting the past and deciding if they were truly in love. The meeting place was the old street in London, the place where they had found the tiny crystal ball.

There could hardly be a more appropriate location.

Over the last three years, while pondering over their relationship, Atobe had came to the realisation that this was the place his feelings for Fuji had gone beyond merely a sense of duty towards Tezuka.

It all took place in that tiny antique shop, he remembered the exact moment clearly, the smile on Fuji's face when he had first saw the tiny crystal ball, that pure and untainted pleasure on his face, and he knew then that he wanted to protect that smile forever. It was the reason he had bought the crystal ball for Fuji, to keep that beautiful smile, the innocent joy in the delicate features, the joy that he feared would one day be gone forever.

He knew at that moment that he loved Fuji.

He had always denied it, even to himself, both out of loyalty to Tezuka and out of fear that he would bring Fuji greater suffering one day. But he knew now, after three years of longing, that the man before him was the one he loved, Tezuka was part of the past, the one he now cared for truly was Fuji Syusuke.

The crystal ball had fulfilled its purpose. Atobe swore to replace it, to personally ensure that the stunning smile will always be present.

"I love you."

He repeated again, more urgently this time.

"I know."

Fuji's response was surprisingly confident.

Atobe looked into the deep blue eyes, uncomprehending for a moment.

"You came."

The reply was clear and simple, the joy in the blue eyes evident.

Bursting into laughter, they hugged each other closer, the years of longing and grieving forgotten as the only thing that mattered now was their love, the love that would go on for eternity.

* * *

Writer's Note: 

Finally, it ended. I'm sorry I took such a long break in between, but to hopefully make up for that I've put up chapters 14-end all at the same time, which six chapters.

Thanks for reading and I really appreciate all the feedback and comments that I've received. I hope you enjoyed the whole story. Thanks once more!


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